


The Thread Among Petals

by Ostrava



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Bittersweet, Coma, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mild Blood, Noodle Dragons, Pining, Red String of Fate, Romance, Self-Doubt, Smoking, Supernatural Elements, Young McHanzo-Past, mentions of reaper76 - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2018-12-16 14:44:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 90,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11830905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ostrava/pseuds/Ostrava
Summary: The situation was dire…He should have voiced out his concerns.He should’ve told Jesse about the Red String of Fate that connected them.He should’ve said so many things, but as always it was a little too late for any regrets and he knew it. More misgivings that no possible apology would waver.It was too late.The archer readied his bow after giving one last lingering look to the wounded cowboy.--A red string of fate AU where Jesse falls into a coma and Hanzo uses the connection of the red string of fate in secret in order to delve into the cowboy’s subconscious to try to bring him back.





	1. Premonition

**Author's Note:**

> I had this file sitting on my drive for months, then decided to post the first chapter a month ago in here only to have it deleted a few hours later (because I am a chicken just like that)
> 
> Anyhow, this idea has been in my head for a while and it was either writing it or drawing it and I'm too lazy to grab my old sketchpad...
> 
> I don't have a beta so if you find any mistakes those are all on me. I apologize beforehand for any misspelling or grammatical errors.

The eve before the current mission had been restless for the archer. In the suffocating stillness while surrounded by the dark veil of night, Hanzo had been unable to fall asleep. It wasn't until the early hours before dawn, when the twilight painted the world with a grayscale palette, that the restlessness allowed him enough lenience to fall a sleep for a few hours.

 

Yet, upon awakening, the feeling of dread was back multiplied by a tenfold. It was the kind of sensation that one gets when things more likely than not would go terribly wrong one way or another, and the archer was unable to shake it off. A sense of finality and resignation made him shrug it off and accept whatever the fates would bring him, for if he was to die, he would at least be dying for a good cause and on the line of duty.

 

The dragons whilst speaking to one another, also whispered to Hanzo from time to time during the long flight and yet, instead of feeling reassured by their presence, the elder Shimada felt as if they knew something important and refused to tell him so.

 

 _'What could it be?_ ' he wondered over and over without gaining any sort of response.

 

Hanzo struggled to find himself calm enough to meditate. The low humming noises produced by the airship's engine were louder than usual for his exhausted self. As the archer began to look around, his eyes landed upon the hat of the figure that was sitting right across from his current seat, McCree.

 

The sharpshooter was sitting between Lúcio and D.Va. The younger members of Overwatch each were lost within their own world. The audio medic was listening to some music and humming along with it while the MEKA pilot was lost within a hand-held game, muttering to herself whenever she lost one of the lives or missed an objective.

 

Neither of the young soldiers noticed when the gunslinger gave Hanzo a wave of his hand, a reassuring yet tired smile accompanied by a tip of the hat to which the archer replied with a short nod. Afterwards, the ship had been filled with silence until they arrived to their destination.

 

The elder Shimada was lulled into a dreamless sleep and brought back into reality by a light shake from McCree.

 

“Rise and shine, we’re here.” the cowboy announced.

 

After hearing those words the dreadful feeling that had been pooling inside of the archer’s gut came back with a vengeance.

 

Was his source of fear connected in some way to McCree?

 

Was the cowboy the one who was in danger?

 

The lack of any answers only aggravated the archer even more, he nearly grunted in frustration.

 

“Thank you for waking me up, McCree.” the archer murmured after giving the cowboy a short nod.

 

“It ain’t nothin’.” Hanzo’s heart skipped a beat as it had always done whenever the scruffy sharpshooter was near him or gave him one of those bright smiles that made the cowboy’s eyes twinkle; just like the one McCree gave Hanzo on that same moment.

 

But as always Hanzo squashed the feeling down. There was no point on acting on it since he knew that McCree was just being polite to him, and nothing more.

 

Other than that, the elder Shimada was almost completely sure that McCree was still unable to see the red string that connected both of them. But on the other hand, the archer had of course been aware from the moment he laid eyes on the gunslinger for the first time years ago when the old Overwatch visited Hanamura, but dared not to mention it as he feared that Jesse would have chosen to stay by his side out of a sense of duty.

 

The only other person with knowledge of the dormant connection between them was Genji. Both brothers were able to see the strings even before their soulmates realized they existed thanks to their spiritual connection to the dragons.

 

It was a gift as much as it was a _curse_.

 

* * *

 

_He recalled Genji’s words when he had offhandedly mentioned that McCree was probably better off without such knowledge for the time being, or ever for that fact._

_“Someday he will be aware of it anija… what will you do then?”_

_“Not all people become aware of such bonds.” Hanzo retorted, his voice was firm and left no room for further discussion._

_The archer scoffed at his younger sibling’s words but deep inside he simply knew that some things were either meant to happen or to wilt before they even began._

 

_He would rather not have the cowboy finding out. Not only because he was more than  aware that the rejection would hurt, but also because he considered that McCree deserved better._

_But Hanzo sometimes dared to contemplate the possibility of it actually working out._

_‘Soulmates that were aware of each other will always and inevitably gravitate to one another, for the String of Fate binds their souls into an unbreakable bond.’ was the popular saying, an old mantra that many found comforting and reassuring and yet the archer couldn’t help but to wonder if McCree would want such an outcome._

_To be stuck with a kin-slayer._

_To be forever bound to the person who nearly killed someone that the cowboy considered a friend._

_“But if it happens,” the cyborg paused. “If he finds out, what then? What will you tell him?”_

_“To be honest Genji, I hope he never has to discover any of this.”_

_The silence lasted all but a minute before Genji spoke once more, the ninja’s voice betraying his poorly concealed laughter._

_“I saw the two of you back then, you know.”_

_“When?”_

_“Back in Hanamura, when Jesse kissed you under that cherry blossom tree.”_

_“That was years ago, almost two decades. He probably does not remember it.” he paused, “Or does not want to.”_

_“How can you be so sure about that?” the cyborg’s question was left hanging onto thin air as Hanzo stood up and walked away._

_“I just know it Genji.” he murmured._

__

* * *

**__ **

 

Those old memories shouldn’t affect Hanzo so much, and yet they did. Sometimes he simply found himself lost within some old flashbacks of a better time.

 

A time when he was under the delusion of freedom.

 

When he thought that a summer with a young American cowboy was all he needed to get away from everything.

 

When he believed that finding whomever was at the end of the red thread would bring him happiness.

 

Such foolishness only brought him heartache, and yet sometimes he wished that he could go back to those simpler times.

 

Impossible and yet, he  _yearned_  for it.

 

With his mind back in the present time, the archer and the gunslinger made their way to where the rest of the team awaited for the former Overwatch commander to gloss over their mission plans one last time before deploying into the place.

 

Soldier:76 went over the mission parameters and the different variants and probable shortcomings, just in case things wouldn’t work out as intended.

 

“All right. Tracer, D.Va and Lúcio you’ll be on the second floor where the computers that hold the data are located.” the trio nodded in response, “Shimada you’ll be on the the platform on the left side of the staircase. That way you can cover both teams.” the Soldier pointed at the spot on the holo-display where the group was observing the blueprints of the building. The archer nodded acknowledging his orders as Morrison turned to face McCree, “And you cowboy will be with me, we’ll be on the lower floor sweeping the area.”

 

“Got it, boss.” the gunslinger replied.

 

“All right, you all got your orders. Now everyone, move out.”

 

Hanzo still felt as if something was about to happen and that things were bound to go south soon. He knew they would, he just didn’t had any idea as to how wrong they would actually go.

 

The slight oppression that the archer felt on his chest and the cold dread that spread through his spine were warnings enough for Hanzo, he had always been aware of things such as these.  _‘Always trust your intuition. If you feel something will go wrong it will usually be, you should be cautious.’_ his mother used to say, and she had usually been correct more often than not. But the archer could not voice his worries out loud, for he knew that no one would stop such an important mission just because he had a bad feeling about it.

 

The dragons stirred on his left arm, their whispers becoming a convoluted mess as Hanzo tried to make sense of it but, he could not for the life of him make head or tails of the words that the spirits were saying. When the ethereal beings had no desire to be understood or overheard they would use hushed words and cryptic sentences, just as they were doing so on that exact moment.

 

The assassin creased his eyebrows, the slight sense of apprehension that had been nagging him since the night before was back. Hanzo was more than aware that the spirits knew something important would happen, or saw some ill fate awaiting the agents.

 

But the reason as to why the dragons refused to give even the slightest form of a warning or at least a few words of advice, eluded the archer as much as it frustrated him.

 

Although, the archer clearly could make out a few words after straining himself to hear the low spoken whispers a bit better. 

 

 _“_ _The Fates know better.”_ he heard clear as day and tried to inquire the meaning of such a statement, but the dragons most likely pretended that they were not listening to Hanzo and afterward they deliberately chose to ignore him completely.

 

 _“But the Fates tend to be quite fickle as well.”_ was the last thing he heard before stepping out of the ship with the rest of the team.

 

* * *

 

 

As fate would have it, the mission went wrong in every sense of the word.

 

It was a losing battle from the moment the agents of Talon began pouring into the seemingly abandoned facility moving like liquid shadows. The attack had been more or less expected since no one can actually go into those kind of operations not expecting resistance of any sort, and yet for all their preparation they were still caught by surprise. The data that Overwatch had been trying to extract form Vishkar was bound to attract the Talon agents and they knew it.

 

The plan had been simple, get in and then out as swiftly as possible without getting any sort of attention and yet somehow, the terrorist group was always one step ahead, for it was more than obvious that the current attack was an ambush.

 

The agents deployed by Overwatch for the operation were more than capable to retrieve the set of data held within what they believed was an abandoned base of operations for the Vishkar Corporation, but as it turned out, it was the complete opposite.

 

In hushed whispers given through their communicators, the agents decided to make a run for the EZ as soon as they could to avoid further confrontation. On one of the far sides of the empty facility a single gunshot echoed, and then a mere handful of seconds later, everything was plunged into chaos.

 

“Status report!” Soldier:76 yelled through the inter-communicator, first one of the agents to respond was Lúcio.

 

“Audio medic here. Still on the second floor with D.Va and Tracer, several Talon agents are surrounding us, but the situation is under control.”

 

“We finished extracting the data. Now we’re clearing the area.” added D.Va. To her left, Tracer used Blink to get two of their attackers by surprise while the MEKA pilot shot down the remaining threats.

 

“Copy that.” after a short pause the soldier contacted the archer. “Agent Shimada, status.”

 

“I have cleared the area.” there was a slight pause, “I am currently making my way towards the main entrance to offer cover fire from higher ground while the team retreats.” the archer’s voice was a little strained as he answered.

 

“Understood. Everyone, time to make our way to the EZ.” was the short command given by the soldier.

 

“McCree, status.” the gunslinger took some time to reply.

 

“I’m engagin’ some enemies, but I’m gettin’ close to the entrance.” the sharpshooter paused and from his end there was the indistinguishable noise made by a pistol while being loaded.

 

“We weren’t supposed to get separated McCree!”

 

“Relax, everything’s under control h---” before the cowboy was able to finish the sentence a loud bang that was heard through the communicator, it had been clearly a gunshot that echoed through the communication channel and then static was all that was coming from the cowboy’s end.

 

“McCree? McCree!?” Morrison called but there was no response. “Shimada you are the closest to his location I recommend you to move there, double pace.” the soldier barked, “I’ll gather up the rest of the team!”

 

“Understood.”

 

The archer moved as swift as the arrows he kept shooting at the enemies. In a handful of minutes he found in his way to the main entrance, but as Hanzo was nearing the main hall he noticed that another wave of enemies was incoming.

 

“I have visual confirmation on several new targets.” was all Hanzo announced over the comm as he ran even faster towards the location where the cowboy was supposed to be. Gunshots were ricocheting off the walls as he moved between crates and columns in order to avoid being hit.

 

“Do not engage all of them on your own.” the ex-commander said, the archer could hear the heavy footsteps of the soldier as well as he heavier steps coming from D.Va’s MEKA through the comm.

 

“Get to McCree, we’re almost there.” the soldier said.

 

The archer found the cowboy sitting behind a few metal crates that served him as a makeshift cover. McCree's back was being supported by a nearby wall and blood was soaking the left side of his torso and trickling though the man’s fingers as he tried to stop the bleeding.

 

Peacekeeper was on the floor by the gunslinger's side along with his Stetson, four dead Talon goons were near the wounded agent.

 

The cowboy’s head had one gash on the left temple, clearly caused by a blunt hit along with another projectile wound on his right shoulder, the blood darkening the rich red color of his serape.

 

One of the gunshots had indented the armor that McCree usually wore. His breathing was labored, a grunt of pain left his mouth followed by a wet cough that coated his lower lip with blood. The gunslinger’s face was ashen and Hanzo could tell he was keeping his eyes open with difficulty.

 

“McCree, can you hear me?” the elder Shimada asked as he knelt in front of the injured man.

 

The cowboy blinked sluggishly as his head lolled to the side, “Hey there.” was all he could pronounce before another set of labored coughs and wheezes overtook him. “I think… I got a lil' cut on the side.” he paused once more, unable to continue speaking for it was too painful for him to draw breath.

 

“Do not attempt to speak.” the archer told the sharpshooter before he stood up to shoot a Sonic Arrow at a nearby wall, noticing how the enemies were spreading around the place. Some of the enemies were finding strategic locations to attack from.

 

“I have located McCree. He requires immediate medical attention.” Hanzo announced as he was once more kneeling in front of the cowboy. He allowed one of his hands to touch Jesse's left jaw.

 

“Understood.” was the short response given by Morrison. After that the comm went silent.

 

With the exit being so close the archer knew he had to choose.

 

Either he awaited for the rest of the team while warding off any incoming threats or made a run for it with McCree on his back and no means to defend themselves, for the cowboy was near unconsciousness and Hanzo would need both hands to move him, also the wounded one needed medical attention as soon as possible as he noticed that the bleeding did not seem to stop.

 

The archer noticed how McCree’s chest began to contract and expand in an irregular form as spasms rattled his ribcage.

 

The decision was made as Hanzo moved closer to McCree and asked, “Can you maintain consciousness until the rest of the team arrives?”

 

The sharpshooter nodded slowly, “S-sure can,” he grunted, “Darlin’.” Jesse managed to add with great effort. There was no typical tip of the hat nor the bright smile that would make Hanzo’s day better just by seeing it.

 

The situation was dire…

 

He should have voiced out his concerns.

 

He should have told Jesse about the Red String of Fate that connected them.

 

He should have said so many things, but as always it was a little too late for any regrets and he knew it. More misgivings that no possible apology would waver.

 

_It was too late._

 

The archer readied his bow after giving one last lingering look to the wounded cowboy, he felt eerily calm despite the situation they were in.

 

“It is time to act.” he announced as the arrow flew away from the bow finding it’s target.

 


	2. In Your Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you all for stopping by to read the story.
> 
> Thank you for all the kudos and comments, you are all amazing! 
> 
> **[This](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZfeyRj4ePT8) ** song inspired the chapter
> 
> \----

* * *

 

For Jesse things were too bright and too noisy, too painful and too cold. Altogether, he felt as if his senses were going haywire.

 

But suddenly Hanzo was there, and he was feeling slightly better because of that.

 

The metallic taste of blood lingered in his mouth as he felt the edges of his vision becoming blurry, his chest contracted and expanded at an irregular pace and there was not enough air as he tried to force a few words out of his mouth.

 

He could feel the cold overcoming him even while he was wearing his serape. The blood continued flowing freely from the wounds, while his garments were tainted in a dark crimson hue.

 

After blinking a few times, the cowboy took notice that there, upon the bloodied industrial floor was a glowing line of some sort. He couldn’t look at it properly for his vision would swim whenever he tried to focus on any determined object, but he was sure that whatever it was it emitted light or at least could glow.

 

The first thing that went through McCree’s mind was that it was possibly a light bulb or a flashlight that a Talon goon could’ve dropped.  But he then reasoned that it was too thin to be a glowing stick and it was not the right color to be part of anyone’s infiltration equipment.

 

It wasn’t one of the ceiling lights either, for those had a round shape.

 

 _“Funny though, it looks like one of those fancy Fate Strings that folks keep on jabbering ‘bout.”_ McCree thought, as an eerily cold shudder traversed through his body.

 

Tired eyes followed the glowing line that was the closest to him and found himself surprised to find that one end was connected to his right hand, _“That wasn’t there this mornin’.”_ his mind provided, thenthe gunslinger felt his head sway and his vision blacked out for a few seconds, he tried to shake it off by blinking rapidly, but his eyelids felt heavy and he was tempted to keep his eyes closed.

 

 _“Nothing wrong with gettin’ some shut eye.”_ his mind was then set into a single goal: get some rest.

 

But there was this strange tug on his right side, some sort of warmth that had nothing to do with the serape he was wrapped in. It was more akin to the first rays of sunshine embracing one’s skin on a cold morning, a slow and comforting source of warm.

__

Once more the gunslinger felt his eyelids droop and he simply allowed his eyes to fall shut completely.

 

_He was so tired._

 

“McCree, open your eyes!” the archer’s harsh tone startled the cowboy.

 

Jesse's eyes were open once more and he was more alert, even though his vision was foggy.

 

“They’re open now. I was just tryin’ to get some shut eye for a second.” the cowboy announced, even though it took great effort from his part to voice it out.

 

Hanzo’s attention was gone as sudden as it came, now the archer was once more focusing on the targets.

 

“Do not fall asleep.” the cowboy heard loud and clear. The Shimada’s heir voice was slightly tinged with worry and yet his eyes lingered upon the impromptu battlefield that was the long abandoned building.

 

Jesse’s hand was still holding onto his side, the cowboy’s sparse medical knowledge more or less gave him an idea that he probably had a collapsed lung that combined with the blood loss from his other wounds was a recipe for disaster. And yet he found a small sense of comfort over the fact that the glowing red thread that he could now see was still there; although it could be his imagination or a trick of the light.

 

It was a small comfort nonetheless. It made McCree feel less lonely, for he knew that if that thread was real, then there was another person at the other end of it.

 

He wouldn't be alone anymore.

 

Brown eyes fell upon the archer’s back. The stance as Hanzo readied another arrow managed to get McCree’s attention for a longer while that time. It reminded him of the first time he had lain his eyes upon Hanzo while he had been practicing in the Shimada estate. The stoic face and tensed muscles, complete attention on the wooden target that was set at least five meters away from the young man.

 

They had been on a mission and yet Jesse threw all protocols out of the window just to share his time with that bright young man who in his mind was a prince and to the rest Jesse was nothing but a plebeian. And for as short as that time was, they had been _happy_.

 

They shared each other’s company in hushed whispers and empty corridors

 

* * *

 

 

_“Pretty handy with that bow.” he had said out loud, followed by a whistle. His sudden presence startled the archer. At that the cowboy took his hat off, “The name’s McCree. At your service.” whiskey colored eyes stared at him for what felt like ages._

_“Shimada Hanzo.” the voice was low but firm._

_“Mind if I watch?”_

_The archer tuned his attention back to the target, “Do not speak and you may watch.”_

 

* * *

 

 

That’s a memory he’s cherished for a long time.

 

It reminded him of a long past summer in a small village atop of a hill.

 

Of nights filled with soft words and the distant shine of stars that were as bright as those he used to stare at while he was a kid in Santa Fe.

 

Long inky black hair, soft lips and a rare smile.

 

It reminded him of what he could _not_ have.

 

At least not anymore. For what it once was, could not be again.

 

They’ve both changed. Time is not a forgiving master and neither is the universe.

 

Yet sometimes, he _hoped_ to go back to those simpler times.

 

Happier times.

 

The only constant were the stars. For under the dark expanse of the night sky that gleamed with millions of twinkling distant lights both of them wished more than once upon a shooting star in a lonely night for days long gone to return. Just like the night before Jesse had to leave Hanamura all those years ago. Bodies tangled together, heavy pants and whispered moans, under the light of those same stars they wished for none of that to end.

 

They both had wished for Hanzo’s freedom and for Jesse to stay.

 

McCree had wished for Hanzo to go with him back to America.

 

The Shimada heir had wished for Jesse to stay with him in Japan.

 

But alas, wishes upon stars have always been nothing more than a quiet comfort. The wish is there but there’s nothing that one of those celestial bodies can do for anyone. A wish is nothing more than a mere aspiration that won’t become true unless you work for it.

 

The cowboy’s time in the Deadlock gang had been a game Russian Roulette. Five empty chambers and then one with a single bullet waiting for the moment of misfortune in which the fates decided that his luck was through. He could’ve died so many times and yet luck seemed to have been on his side the whole time back then. He survived plenty of ordeals for his own motto is _“Don’t be just the fastest, be also the smartest.”_ one needs to know which cards to play in this world, and play them right for as long as fortune is on your side.

 

That’s why when he met the Shimada heir once more at the Watchpoint in Gibraltar he made no mention of their previous relationship. Time changes people and what was once treasured could be nothing more than a pile of derelict pieces now.

 

In his memory Hanzo will always be that young man with too many responsibilities weighing him down who made time to be with Jesse, even though they both knew it would all be ephemeral.

 

They made the most of it.

 

That’s all that mattered.

 

Maybe, Hanzo has indeed forgotten him but McCree would never forget such a person. There had always been this feeling in his head and his heart there there was something missing between them. Like a puzzle that is near completion but is without the last crucial piece.

 

The gunner kept his eyes open although his reverie took his mind quite far away. The noises coming from the battle were muffled, the loud yelling and screams were barely registered by his ears, it was as if he had his head underwater. Colors were blurry and noises were subdued, the pain was too much and too little at the same time. McCree had lost almost all sensation on his left side and his throbbing forehead felt as if it was aflame, his lungs tried to bring in enough air but it was difficult as the spasms caused by his diaphragm pushed what little air came into his only functional lung out as fast as it came in.

 

It was agony, pure agony.

 

But there it was again, the red thread once more. It was there, _glowing_. As he focused he noticed that the origin of it was coming from his right hand, that was even more strange.

 

 _ _“_ That’s weird,” _his mind supplied, __“_ That was not there yesterday, or ever before.” _

 

It was curious to be noticing it at that moment, but things such as those threads were never something that the cowboy ever paid too much mind to begin with, they were often an afterthought for him. He’d never seen one before that but now when there’s the chance that he just did, the gunslinger believed that he had to be hallucinating.

 

The only moment in which Jesse had wanted one so desperately was when he met Hanzo for the first time. Back then, that had been one of the first wishes he ever made when he shared a night with the Shimada heir under the dark expanse of the night sky.

 

* * *

 

 

_The warm embrace they shared and the glow emitted by the fireflies made everything seem dream-like. The nearby pond reflected the sky, and the soft summer breeze played with their hair. The garden was completely still, as if it was frozen in time._

__

_“Do you believe in things such as fate and those red threads that people say that connect them to each other, darlin’?”_

_Hanzo’s head was laid on top of Jesse’s chest, the rhythmical beating of the cowboy’s heart was lulling the archer to sleep. “I do.”_

_“Do you think… you know…”_

__

_“What is it?”_

_“Do you think that we have them? They do say that you see them threads when you meet the right person.”_

_That was followed by a long heavy silence._

 

_“Perhaps.” he paused, “But they do say that no matter what, those tied by the thread will always end up together.”_

 

_Jesse smiled, “You know what?” he laid his hand on Hanzo’s hair, “We don’t need them threads darlin’.”_

__

_Little did Jesse know that not only you needed to be with the right person but that it also needed to be the right time for the thread to be seen by both. Hanzo realized immediately after hearing the cowboy’s question that they would probably meet again but on that moment it was not time for them to be together yet._

_They would have to wait until the time was right._

 

_But that moment in which they would be able to be with one another was so far away that neither of them had much in the way of hope. Both young men simply tried to commit to memory every single moment they shared._

 

_Hanzo, hoped for a future they could share thanks to the string of fate._

 

_Jesse wished he could sweep Hanzo off his feet in order to take him away from the clan and all his responsibilities._

 

_Mission be dammed and the thread of fate as well. He needed neither of those, for he had his archer alongside him._

 

_But nothing was ever easy or simply handed to the cowboy upon a silver platter, and that time was no different._

 

* * *

 

 

But how they both longed for it to be the right time back then.

 

McCree came out of his reverie as he felt he was being gently shaken as to not disturb his wounds any further. A voice that seemed to be too far away for someone who was a mere few inches from his face called his name over and over. The cowboy’s eyes felt heavy and he couldn’t fight it anymore, he closed them after promising to himself it would only be for a moment.

 

Hanzo kept on calling his name but McCree was too tired.

 

There was only a single thought in the cowboy's mind and that was to see Hanzo one last time. For what could be better than to close his eyes and that the last thing he saw was the archer’s face?

 

As all noise around him died down slowly he wondered if that was how dying truly felt like. The cowboy made one last effort and blinked his eyes open, he decided that the distraught face that Hanzo was featuring was not something he would like to see ever again. He liked to see the archer smiling -as rare as it was- or even angry, but not sad.

 

Never as sad as he was on that exact moment.

 

“Hey darlin’ smile for me like you did back in Hanamura, will you?” the small gasp made Jesse smile. So Shimada _did_ remember. “I like your smile.” his voice was low and sluggish and he felt as if the world was being dulled around the edges once more. On the distance the electronic beat of Lucio’s healing music could be heard.

 

The team was returning and Hanzo was safe, that was good enough for McCree.

 

“I think I’ll rest for now.”

 

“No, don’t close your eyes.” the archer’s desperation was clear.

 

As McCree slowly closed his eyes his vision came to rest on the thread that he could see clearly tied to Hanzo’s left hand.

 

“That’s wh-” as he was gasping for air the sentence was cut, there was so much that needed to be said but there was no time.

 

 _“That’s where the thread ends, tied to your hand.”_ the cowboy thought as his voice failed.

 

Jesse felt joy as well as sadness all tangled up inside.

 

It was true, the fates have always been cruel.

 

 “…It ends darlin’.” the gunslinger tried to point to the hand where the glowing thread was but his strength failed him.

 

He heard his name being called.

 

"Smile." the cowboy whispered.

 

Then it was all dark.


	3. Stars and Wishes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kudos and comments!
> 
> You are all amazing and you inspire me to continue this story.
> 
> The songs that inspired this chapter are: [Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cTZzHKJORQQ) and [ Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MFG5m3qgfeQ)

* * *

 

The team had managed to escape, most of them were none the worse for wear except for the gunslinger.

 

The distance between the abandoned facility and the drop-ship that awaited them felt like thousands of miles instead of mere meters for Hanzo. Soldier:76 was the one to take McCree in his arms with all the care in the world, while Lúcio checked on the cowboy’s vital signs and played a steady beat to keep the worst of the damage at bay until they arrived to the Watchpoint, where Dr. Ziegler awaited them after receiving a comm from Tracer.

 

The atmosphere as the ship took off was filled with worry and tension. Morrison was equal parts furious, because the gunner couldn’t stay in a single place for too long which led to their current predicament and, saddened because the moment he laid his eyes on McCree bleeding out on the floor he remembered that young recruit that had a mouth too big for his own good, with eyes that were fierce and filled with determination. But none of that was there anymore.

 

Instead, the younger man was laid out on one of the spare beds, his skin almost as pale as the sheets that surrounded him. The soldier felt guilt crawling within his chest.

* * *

 

 

_“Kid’s got promise.” Gabriel mentioned, an old notepad held between his hands._

_“Let’s hope he lives up to your expectations then.” Jack retorted, amusement was clear in his voice._

 

* * *

 

 

This mission was supposed to be simple, it _should_  have been easy.

 

“Talon be dammed.” the ex-commander mumbled as he trailed one hand over his hair.

 

On a corner near the bed stood Hanzo, breathing slowly while seemingly staring at the ground.

 

The archer had Jesse’s serape and Stetson in his arms.

 

What no one noticed was that his eyes went from his left hand to McCree’s right hand, over and over. His eyes followed the length of the string noticing how it was glowing sparsely, not like it used to.

 

Before, it was a steady bright red. Now, as the glow dimmed considerably after McCree lost consciousness the string was similar to a light that was about to fade out.

 

It pulsated slowly, like the glow that was emitted by a firefly that’s trying to cling to life as it sinks slowly into the water of a pond. Hanzo had seen that happen with morbid fascination more than once in the confines of the garden at the Shimada estate.

 

 _“It’s fading away.”_  one of the dragons mentioned.

 

The archer felt as if the weight of a mountain had befallen upon his chest after the spirit spoke.

 

The crushing realization that the wounded agent was possibly dying brought Hanzo a new wave of anxiousness.

 

“What do you mean it’s fading?” he questioned, making sure that his voice was low enough as to not be overheard by anyone else. Although, the spirit’s choice of words was nothing short of alarming, the archer was hoping for a response that would probably never come. Dragons were wise, but were never known to share their secrets easily.

 

 _“He does not have a reason to stay, and neither does the thread have any reason to remain.”_ the other Dragon answered with an ominous voice.

 

Hanzo got a response, but he would rather had not.

 

For the first time since he heard the dragons speak to him as a child for the first time, he wished for them to keep their secrets, just this once.

 

Time moved slowly and McCree remained unconscious. The cowboy’s last words before passing out were repeated like a mantra within the elder Shimada’s head.

 

It ends darlin’…

 

Smile...

 

It ends darlin’…

 

_Smile…_

 

The archer’s hold onto McCree’s signature serape tightened considerably as he creased his brows and felt as if everything was crumbling around him. So much wasted time, so may things left unsaid and they probably wont be getting a second chance.

 

* * *

 

 

_“I promise to find you again darlin’. No matter what.”_

_The transport was about to depart, they had a sparse few minutes left to be together before the weeks they lived alongside each other became nothing more than a sweet set of memories._

_“I promise the same.”_

_Their fingers were threaded together as they shared one last kiss._

__

_Both young men refusing to open their eyes as the kiss ended in a sweet embrace._

 

_They brought their foreheads together, neither wishing to face the end, for the future was uncertain. Hanzo took the cowboy’s right hand in his left and stared at them, the string was there glowing a steady red even when Jesse could not see it._

_“We will meet again,” the archer tried not only to assure himself but his cowboy as well, “when it is time.”_

_They would get their chance soon enough._

_Wouldn’t they?_

_“When we do darlin’, I promise to never let go of ya.”_

__

_Hanzo felt his heart flutter as those words left the cowboy’s mouth; the Shimada heir truly believed in such a thing as both of them coming together once more to never be parted again._

 

_“I will hold you to that promise, Jesse.”_

 

_“I’ve never broken one promise in my life.” the taller young man took the archer’s chin between his left index and thumb and gave a soft peck to Hanzo’s lips, “This one is more than that, is an oath. On behalf of both my darlin’.”_

_Jesse’s right hand and Hanzo’s left were still entwined, the bright red glow of the string that tied them together gave the archer hope._

 

_Thing was, that neither of them realized that there’s a first time for everything, even broken promises._

 

* * *

 

That summer in Hanamura would never return. The archer had been young and foolish to believe in such a notion, for time is a river that flows in a single direction. A fire that once it has burned out only leaves ashes behind.

 

But what could be worse? To be happy for a split second or to never know happiness at all?

 

Hanzo couldn’t really choose an answer to such a question, for he had known a short lived happiness that went away as quickly as it had arrived.

 

But it was true what it was often said by the most unfortunate of souls after all, the Fates have always been and will always be indeed _fickle_  and _cruel_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The rest of the team said nothing as they found seats around the spacious airship.

 

Hana was holding onto her hand-held console as if it was a lifeline, her eyes rimmed red and her stare vacant.

 

Lúcio, who was still by the cowboy’s side checking on his vitals every few minutes, was looking ragged. His face showed that he was beyond concerned. Sometimes, the young audio medic muttered to himself how he should _‘change the beat of the song to help Eastwood to get better soon’_ but it was to no avail, for the cowboy remained unresponsive.

 

On the pilot seat, Lena had to convince herself more than once as to not leave the ship on auto-pilot just to go and check on McCree. Worry wormed itself into her chest.

 

What if she wasn't flying the ship fast enough?

 

What if it they were to arrive too late to the watchpoint?

 

What _then_?

 

Those were the longest hours that any of them had ever gone through.

 

* * *

 

 

The arrival to the Watchpoint in Gibraltar was met with hastened words and hurried steps. Angela Ziegler awaited them near the landing pad, a gurney beside her and all her equipment ready at the medical bay.

 

The combat medic received all the information regarding McCree’s wounds from Lúcio and proceeded to get her patient moved swiftly into the med-bay.

 

For his part, Hanzo kept his distance knowing that he would not be of any help. The archer chose to fill the mission report, and after he handed it over to Winston and while trying not to think anymore about the outcome of their most recent assignment, he took McCree’s serape and washed it. The assassin was more than sure that the gunner would want it back along with his hat when he woke up.

 

 _If_  he woke up…

 

 _When_  he woke up.

 

Trying to keep a positive mentality after everything that the elder Shimada had seen in his life was difficult, when not even his dragons were being optimistic, the archer chose to cling to that small sliver of hope that was the fading thread that still connected him to McCree.

 

It glowed still, albeit faint, but it was _there_.

 

It gave him hope, as flighty as it was on that moment, it was all that the archer had left from a relationship that may never see the light of day and would only become an old memory of a few summer weeks back in his old home.

 

Never to become something more, all of those __‘_ could have been’ _and __‘_ what ifs’_ gone along with the now faintly glowing string that connected both Jesse’s and Hanzo’s souls.

 

Hanzo wandered through the watchpoint with the recently dried serape wrapped over his shoulders, having left the Stetson back in his room, the archer didn’t really have any specific destination. All he knew was that on that same moment Jesse McCree, former Blackwatch agent, was fighting for his life as he was laid open on a surgical table and the elder Shimada was feeling more and more uneasy as time went by.

 

Without realizing it, the archer found his way to the high end of a cliff. As he was facing the calm sea and the setting sun, Hanzo felt a sudden cold shudder crawl overall his left side. It began on his hand and went up over his arm, ending on his chest.

 

That was when he noticed it, for a moment there, the thread had faded out _completely_.

 

As if it had never existed to begin with.

 

His heart nearly stopped, his mouth went completely dry.

 

Dread bloomed within his chest and he closed his eyes refusing to face such an outcome.

 

Old memories of starry nights and secret meetings flooded his mind, but those were not his own, for the archer was not the one trying to recall them.

 

 _“It ends darlin’.”_ the gunslinger’s voice continued to echo within Hanzo’s head.

 

The cold embrace and the absence of the string lasted no more than a mere few minutes but it had felt like an eternity. On that short time period, the elder Shimada felt an emptiness that could only be compared to the void itself; everything stood still, it was as if even time refused to move forward no longer.

 

He’d known loneliness for most of his life, but that eerie feeling of desolation and utter despair was something he’d never experienced before.

 

Nor he hopes to __ever__  have to go through, again.

 

It was not only loneliness, it was total _emptiness_.

 

As he stared at the sunset he knew that McCree nearly died once more on that day. The dragons made their presence known to their master, but the lonesomeness remained.

 

The thread still glowed faintly, even in the light of dusk it seemed as if it would flicker out of existence at any given instant.

 

Hanzo was _scared_.

 

For a small juncture in time he had tasted what it felt like to have such a bond severed, even though theirs was not yet acknowledged by both of them the archer had felt as if his heart was torn open and wished for death to come swiftly for him as well, for if McCree was to die, then so would he.

 

That was how Genji found him.

 

The archer standing as still as an old statue looking over the sea. The silk scarf that tied his hair flowed freely with the wind along with the red serape that he had draped over his shoulders. The sun’s last sparks of light illuminated the surface of the ocean, reflecting a rich palette of colors that mirrored a raging fire; the whole scene resembling an old impressionist painting.

 

“ _Anija_ , I have been looking for you all over the place.” the cyborg’s voice was low, as to not startle his sibling.

 

If Genji was surprised that his brother was wearing McCree’s serape he did not mention it. “The surgery is complete. All the major damage that Jesse’s body suffered was tended to.” the elder Shimada gave a slight nod, the stiff posture giving none of his thoughts away. Hanzo simply stood there, still not facing the younger sibling.

 

“Angela said that McCree suffered from massive blood loss, a collapsed lung, a few broken ribs and that his body went into shock.” Hanzo chose to remain in silence, “I do not know how to tell you the rest, brother.”

 

“Just say it Genji," the archer spoke without turning around to face his brother. "there is no point on sugarcoating the truth after all.”

 

“Jesse has fallen into a coma and Dr. Ziegler does not know…” the younger Shimada hesitated. The news he brought along were not easy to share.

 

“Does not know _what_ Genji?” Hanzo’s voice was shallow.

 

“She can not tell when or if he will ever wake up.” the cyborg’s voice quivered a little.

 

The gunslinger’s last words still reverberated inside of the archer’s head.

 

_It ends darlin’._

_Smile…_

__

“I… I understand.” as dusk became twilight the archer’s serene face twisted into a grimace for a split second.

 

The ninja sat down facing the sea, “Sit with me, _anija_.” the youngest sibling expected a protest, denial of his request or that his elder brother would simply walk away.

 

None of it happened.

 

With a defeated sigh the archer sat down beside his brother in quiet acceptance, both men facing the ocean as well as looking up as the light of the first stars graced the darkening expanse of the twilight sky.

 

“I know this can’t be easy for you, brother.” the cyborg’s voice was filled with calmness. “Did he ever got to see the string that ties you both together?”

 

The elder Shimada shook his head, his stoic look melting away for a minute to show a crestfallen expression. “When I arrived here for the first time he did not seem to remember me nor was he interested in me to begin with,” the archer paused for a slight moment, his eyes set on a far away constellation that was slowly making its appearance upon the darkening sky, “nor it seemed that he was aware of the connection.”

 

 _‘Or that he would ever be.’_  was left unsaid.

 

The archer had lost all hope that they could be anything more than acquaintances after all the time that had passed. He was resigned to accept it even.

 

No point on forcing something that was unwanted.

 

“You never told him anything back when you were together in Hanamura?”

 

“What would have been the point? He was unable to see it back then, it would have been of no use to mention such a thing when it was not the right time.” Hanzo said calmly and the younger Shimada nodded in response.

 

Genji had been aware of almost all of the comings and goings of Jesse and Hanzo all of those years ago.

 

Of their escapades, their secret dates and of the moments they shared in the middle of the day in those corridors they believed to be devoid of any of the personnel that would usually be there.

 

Genji had been responsible for the emptiness of those corridors. One well placed prank on another side of the Shimada estate would usually end up in a complete turnabout of the present staff and most of the workers would be sent there. The ninja did it because for the first time his brother had been  _happy_.

 

And it was all thanks to a scruffy young cowboy that never followed the rules; Genji could not have been more delighted for that to be so.

 

His elder brother was more concerned about where he would go with the cowboy on their impromptu dates, than of being a disappointment to their father.

 

And Genji was more than ecstatic to see that, even if at the end of the day he was scolded by their father.

 

It was _worth it_.

 

The archer became prone to fits of laughter more often than not, and a healthy blush usually took over Hanzo, often traversing all the way up from his neck and ending on his ears whenever a certain cowboy was mentioned. The eternally stoic face was outlined repeatedly by secret smiles and fond eye rolls. Genji had seen the string that connected both his brother and Jesse from the start as well; but so had their father.

 

The dragons have always been as much as a gift as they are a curse. For the scorn was clear upon their father’s voice whenever the cowboy was mentioned. Even when constant meetings with Reyes and Morrison took plenty of his time, the leader of the Shimada clan had more than enough servants observing his heir’s activities and reporting back any of Hanzo’s movements back to him in the blink of an eye.

 

That was why the younger Shimada aided his brother secretly, and when their father inquired about the relationship between Hanzo and Jesse the answer was always the same.

 

* * *

 

 

_“No father, the American is unaware of the string.”_

_“Good.” he replied, face as stoic as that of a statue. “For he is nothing, and should never be anything more than that.”_

_“Father, I-”_

__

_“Hanzo,” the elder interrupted, “you should known that dogs that bark at the moon are trying to reach what they cannot have.”_

_“You are right…” he paused, rage filled him inside but he could not allow himself to be disrespectful. Even if the person that was being dragged through the mud was his own destined soulmate. So, the Shimada heir swallowed his indignation and finished the sentence with a respectful, yet accentuated “father.”_

_“You will thank me in the future.”_

__

_The archer was not quite sure about that. For in the eyes of his father no one was ever good enough, unless he deemed them so._

 

* * *

 

Both brothers were lost in their own memories. In silence they watched as the sky darkened gradually and at the same time it lightened up with innumerable celestial bodies that shone in the distance.

 

“Do you still wish upon stars, _anija_?”

 

“Not anymore Genji.”

 

“And if you still did, what would you wish for?”

 

The question took the elder Shimada by surprise. Such a subject was not something that he often mulled over; for stars were objects that existed only in his happy memories. Even in the time he spent running away from his past after leaving the Shimada-gumi he avoided looking over at the night sky if possible.

 

Too many good memories mingled together with such and he had no desire to taint them over with his newest actions back then. The killing of his brother being one of the main reasons for it.

 

“I do not know.” the archer replied.

 

“Would you choose to go back in time to run away with Jesse when he asked you to?” that question was something that managed to hit home almost immediately, for the eldest' sibling face contorted into a grimace right after it was voiced out by the cyborg.

 

“Do not ask me such things, Genji.” he barked, “The past cannot be changed. You cannot bring back what fire has burned away, nor can you waste your life wishing for what is long gone to return.”

 

A heavy silence fell between the brothers after Hanzo’s outburst.

 

“Perhaps not, but you can build something stronger from the ashes.”

 

The temperature dropped and Hanzo pulled the serape closer to himself, burrowing into the soft worn out fabric that still had the faint smell of cigar smoke even after being washed. The slow pulsating light on the archer’s left hand captured Genji’s attention.

 

“How’s that string been faring then?” knowing that it was better to avoid asking about the past for now, the younger sibling chose to change the subject. Yet, the present situation was not as good of a topic either.

 

“It disappeared completely not long ago…” the assassin took a deep breath before finishing the sentence, “It was… frightening.”

 

“Is fading away, isn’t it?”

 

The elder Shimada nodded grimly. He dared not mention that the dragons said the exact same thing as well, for voicing it out would make it even more real.

 

“There must be something that can be done.” Genji had always been the most optimistic out of the two of them, even after all the time and all that has transcended in both of their lives.

 

“I do not think there is a point to it Genji.”

 

With that, the archer stood up and made his way back into the watchpoint. The cyborg remained silent as he closed his eyes and attempted to meditate under the night sky.

 

He could recognize that slight slouch that his elder brother often disguised as tiredness when they were young whenever he was pretending that nothing affected him, Hanzo was about to give up.

 

That could not be.

 

He missed his brother dearly, he wanted to re-connect with him, but more than anything he wished for his happiness. That was why when a shooting star traversed the night sky Genji sent a silent prayer to the ancient spirits, a wish of sorts.

 

For his brother to find both, _peace_  and _happiness_.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The emptiness of the watchpoint's corridors at such a late hour gave most people an eerie impression. Everything was completely quiet and while others found it a little unnerving, Hanzo found it relaxing. The archer had a mind to walk over to the med-bay but realized that the time was not really appropriate for any sort of visit.

 

Or perhaps it was because he assumed that his visit would be unwelcome. After all Dr. Ziegler did not fully trust him, since the elder Shimada was the one that nearly killed Genji and she was quite over-protective of the cyborg. The archer could not really fault her for it.

 

For who would trust a kin-slayer?

 

With that in mind, the elder Shimada wandered back to his room. The entire trip back was spent by the archer glaring at his left hand, as if that would make the light return to the string.

 

The room was simple. A bed on the far end with a nightstand right beside it; a dingy old lamp on top, a small closet and a desk that faced a window. For a person with so few possessions such as Hanzo, it was more than enough.

 

As the archer sat down on the bed he glanced over to the desk, on top of it was McCree’s Stetson right where he had left it. Not that he’d expected anyone to have barged into his room while he was not in it anyway, the people in the watchpoint may not really trust him but they at least respected his privacy.

 

For Hanzo it felt wrong to have the old battered hat with the shiny buckle and bullets that served as decoration without its owner nearby.

 

Just like it was strange for him to be the one wearing the serape.

 

It was for safekeeping, until the rightful owner was back on his feet and able to get them back. Or so that was what the the elder Shimada kept on repeating to himself.

 

It was reassuring.

 

In the confines of the small room the archer took a swing of sake, hoping for the alcoholic beverage to numb him enough to fall into a dreamless sleep. What he was not counting on was the fact that melancholy would win him over after a having few more gulps of the drink.

 

Hanzo had a small wooden box in which he usually kept old mementos that brought him back good old memories. Like his mother’s flower brooch or one of Genji’s old headbands, all of those mementos served to remind him that he had a family once. Albeit, not a happy one but a family nonetheless.

 

As he rummaged through a small bundle of old photos that he had stuck at the bottom of the box, the archer finally found the one he was looking for. It was perhaps a little faded on the corners and a bit tattered due to all the times he thought about just crumpling it or tearing it apart and throwing it into the trash bin, but he always decided otherwise, and always kept it.

 

A small strip of four pictures that were taken on a old photo booth when both young men were at a summer festival. The first two ones were of them making silly faces at the camera. Hanzo with his tongue sticking out, nose creased and Jesse with his eyes crossed and his mouth open.

 

Then the last two photos of the strip were different.

 

The third one featured both young men staring into each other’s eyes. Soft smiles, Jesse’s hand on Hanzo’s cheek.

 

The last one was of them sharing a kiss. The tenderness of the moment captured within the old grayscale ink of the photograph.

 

The elder Shimada often wondered if it had been worth it. Meeting McCree back then had been a turning point in his life; he knew they were supposed to _be_ together, thing was that the specific date was never given. It’s been decades, he feels like an empty vessel of his former self. Hope has never been a good friend for him anyways.

 

For who would want a broken man such as he?

 

He took another swing of the drink, already feeling the effects of the alcoholic beverage taking over when he heard the dragons speak.

“ _We know and see much_ _for it is allowed to us young_ _master but, we must not share it all._ _Too much knowledge does more harm than good.”_ as always the message was cryptic. _“_

 

 _If you wish to attain something you must fight for it,_ _we can tell you how to start but is up to you to accomplish your goal and gain the desired result.”_

 

“Just for this once, speak plainly.” Hanzo felt drained, the day had been long and his patience was wearing thin. The spirits’ manifestation as small serpentine beings no larger than a house cat were always a welcome sight for it had always allowed the archer to know that he was not imagining things. But on that moment he was just so tired.

 

 _“We can help you to find the other one so that you may bring him back. But the rest is up to you, young master.”_ both beings voiced in unison. As they stared at their master, their blue glow illuminating the room. _“There is risk involved and one or perhaps both of you could be lost.”_

 

The elder Shimada stared a the photo strip still held in his hand, then his eyes fell upon the hat that rested on top of the desk and on the red and gold of the serape that the archer still wore over his shoulders. A long silence followed, the red string of fate still glowed faintly in his left hand.

 

There was still hope.

 

Even if McCree wouldn’t want to be with him after he woke up, at least the cowboy would be alive and well.

 

That would be more than enough.

 

It was worth a try so that the world wouldn’t lose Jesse McCree.

 

 “I will do whatever it takes,” he announced solemnly, “I am listening.”


	4. Bang! Bang!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank you all for the kudos and comments! 
> 
> This chapter was excruciatingly difficult to write. I had the general idea and annotations for the entire thing but inspiration deserted me completely. I stared at the blank document for hours and nothing but the blinking cursor was there over the empty page ( I was also interrupted constantly.)
> 
> I’m sorry for the delay and for any grammatical errors.
> 
> I hope you like the chapter.
> 
> The song that is referenced/mentioned in this chapter is Nancy Sinatra’s “Bang, Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down)"

_I was five and he was six_  
_We rode on horses made of sticks_  
_He wore black and I wore white_  
_He would always win the fight_

* * *

 

The dragons in their smaller forms approached their master, as the archer proceeded to take a seat upon the modest bed. Bottle of sake still in his hand.

 

“Speak.” he demanded, for there was no time to be wasted.

 

The spirits for their part mulled over for a short period of time before finally delving into their speech.

 

“ _The string still connects you both. Albeit barely.”_  the one that had chosen to sit upon the pillow spoke first, __“_ No matter where you are or the circumstances, you will always be able to find one another. Or so the ancient legend says.”_

 

 _“But this is not the case.”_  the other dragon, who was resting near the bottle of liquor that the elder Shimada still held added.

 

 _“His connection to you was severed for a time,”_ there was a slight pause, as if the ancient dragon was contemplating his next words carefully. _“that means young master, that on that exact moment the other one became lost within his own consciousness, for he lost his link to this world.”_  Hanzo had always preferred bluntness, for he never saw a point on delaying what was inevitable, and yet these news were like a cold dagger burying itself within his chest.

 

“What?” the archer inquired, his voice louder than intended.

 

 _“Fret not young one, for you two are still connected, he just lacks the ability to return on his own.”_ the spirit that was near the bottle disclosed, __“_ But on that moment in which you saw the string vanish, that was when the other one became adrift. You must guide him out if you truly wish for him to return.”_

__

“Very well,” Hanzo proceeded to take a mouthful of sake before he continued. “How and when am I supposed to begin then? There is no time to waste.”

 

 _“You are very diligent young master.”_ the one on top of the pillow mentioned nonchalantly. _“If you must know then, you should begin immediately. For every minute you waste is another minute that the other one drifts further away from you.”_

 

It was more than clear that the time to act was upon him, there was no point on delaying any longer. _“But remember that you may get lost as well, the string is what will guide you to him but we can only do so much to guide the both of you back if you manage to find him.”_

__

After hearing such a haunting statement the archer stood up without saying a single word, then proceeded to take the Stetson from where it was perched atop of the desk and left the bottle of liquor where the hat formerly lay after drinking one last time from it.

 

“We are going now then.” he announced, leaving no room for further discussion and proceeded to walk towards the door. The gold and red shades of the serape still draped over his shoulders.

 

 _“Remember not to be too hasty young master, for impatience is the biggest enemy one can have in many a situation.”_ one of the spirits mentioned as they manifested themselves wrapped over the archer’s upper body.

 

Hanzo’s determined stride as he made his way down the corridor came up to an abrupt halt as none other than Genji stood up right in the middle of the narrow space.

 

“The cowboy clothing style does not suit you, brother.” the cyborg mentioned offhandedly, arms crossed over his chest.

 

“What are you doing here, Genji?” the question came out harsher than intended.

 

“I know what you are planning, dragons can be quite nosy if you must know.” as if for cue, the cyborg’s dragon manifested itself upon the psychical world in a swirl of neon-green light and yellowish fog.

 

“So your dragon was eavesdropping on us?” it was more of a statement than a question really, but the swordmaster didn’t bother to correct his brother’s words.

 

“You know as well as I do _anija_  that they are spiritually connected, even if we ourselves are not.” Genji shrugged, “They communicate among themselves most of the time, but they choose carefully what to tell us and what not.”

 

“Your point, Genji?” the elder inquired bluntly, “If you know what I must do, then get out of my way so that I may fulfill my role and do what must be done.”

 

The ninja stood in silence for what seemed hours instead of mere seconds, the green glint of the visor giving nothing of his inner mussing away.

 

“Your role? Seriously brother, this is more than that.” he paused, “This is not a theatrical play, and you going to search for McCree with the full intend to sacrifice yourself in the process is not something that he would want.”

 

“You are not going to deter me Genji.”

 

“And I will not. Because I know it would be pointless to try, you are too stubborn.” the cyborg responded accordingly, “But I need to know if I must prepare to mourn for my brother instead.”

 

“You do not have to--”

 

“To what brother?!” the younger Shimada nearly yelled, as he interrupted Hanzo. “To see you once more charging into the unknown with the full intend to die like a martyr, simply because you still believe that is all you will ever be good for?” an enraged Genji was a rare sight, but on that moment the cyborg was _livid_.

 

“This is my burden to bear.” the archer added quietly.

 

“No, it is not.” the words were spoken in a faster fashion than usual. A clear sign that Genji was upset. “You are just going to plunge yourself into the unknown, like some sort of sacrificial lamb, without asking for help or assistance.”

 

The silence was deafening, the dragons looked between both brothers but said nothing. This was their masters’ issue after all. “You always do this, _anija_.”

 

“Genji…”

 

“No...” the swordmaster said impassively, “I cannot allow you to do this any longer. We are not in the clan, Hanzo. Not anymore.” the younger sibling sighed, “You always believed that you could solve everything on your own, even when we were boys.”

 

“I know my limits, Genji.”

 

“That has never stopped you before, having limits I mean.” Genji always saw his brother, even as children as someone who would always go beyond the expectations just because the entirety of the clan was molding him to be nothing more than an emotionless and immutable leader. Someone who would take a challenge head on on his own to either triumph or die while doing it so.

 

Their father had always pushed Hanzo to his limits, all the time. Nothing was enough for him. One hour of archery practice a day? It was _nothing _.__  Hanzo had to either go at it for two hours or he was wasting his time in the eyes of his father.

 

That was something that the archer always carried with him. He was never doing enough. Even if the clan was no more, Hanzo still carried the words of the elders as those of his father as well with him.

 

_Never enough._

 

_Try harder._

 

_Do not be a waste of space._

 

_Do more, for what you are doing is **not** enough._

 

_It would never be enough._

 

Hanzo after another uncomfortable moment of silence, decided that he had squandered enough time, “I must do this and I do not require _your_ approval to do so.” the archer added pointedly as he resumed his walk.

 

“But you could use my help.” the ninja added, words were light but were also holding a deeper meaning.

 

The elder Shimada continued his walk unfazed, Genji’s words still resonating in his mind. The dragons were silent still.

 

 

* * *

 

 

As the hour was late, the archer found no more people wandering through the watchpoint’s corridors as he made his way toward the medical bay. Hanzo was more than grateful for that.

 

Thoughts set upon his goal and wondering what the whole process would entail distracted Hanzo as he walked. The dragons hadn’t said much besides getting McCree back by using the string, and he could understand their point but, how was he supposed to accomplish __that__?

 

Finally arriving to his destination the elder Shimada took in a deep breath.

 

“This is it.” he muttered, as the bright chrome of the door reflected the dim lights that were hanging from the ceiling. The glowing keys of the access panel  getting his attention, a few pressed buttons here and there and the door slid open.

 

The smell of antiseptic was the first thing he perceived.

 

As he slowly examined the place he felt the slight pull that would always be there whenever his soulmate was nearby. Taking a quick glance at his left hand and then following the red glowing thread around the place helped him locate McCree faster.

 

The cowboy was being kept within the confines of a small private room in the far end of the med-bay.

 

First, Hanzo took notice of the different devices that were attached to the gunner’s body, but his eyes landed upon the heart rate monitor to which he gave his utmost attention. Said appliance, was beeping steadily providing a not-so-intrusive background noise.

 

The IV line that was connected to Jesse’s right hand slowly providing medication and hydrating fluids and the nasal cannula that covered Jesse’s nose partially, reminded Shimada the reason why he was there in the first place.

 

The archer laid his eyes everywhere but on the glowing thread that linked them to one another. The slow pulsating glow growing steadily weaker as time passed by. He was here to fix that, to stop that from happening, but what if he couldn’t?

 

What if he wasn’t strong enough?

 

Then Hanzo took on account the parlor that was still set upon McCree’s skin, an obvious testament of the fact that death was still latched upon the gunslinger’s back.

 

The slow rise and fall of Jesse’s chest gave Hanzo a small amount of hope nonetheless.

 

It was nothing like the spasms that had rattled the entirety of the ex-Blackwatch agent’s body as he tried to take enough air into his damaged lung. This was quiet, peaceful even.

 

Hanzo could pretend for a second that McCree was not wounded at all, that the cowboy was simply sleeping placidly instead of being lost in a coma and probably never to be waking up from it.

 

What brought the elder Shimada out of his reverie were his dragons. The glowing spirits jumped from Hanzo’s shoulders onto the bed, one making it’s way to rest beside McCree’s head while the other curled itself upon the cowboy’s chest.

 

Following that, the archer managed to put the Stetson on top of the small table that was on the side of the bed then he simply took off the serape that he had draped over his upper body and proceeded to settle it over Jesse’s lower body as if it was a blanket.

 

The bright red of the cloth contrasting with the rest of the room’s white and silver colors.

 

As Hanzo took a seat on a small plastic chair that he had brought closer to the bed he looked at his guardians and asked, “What must I do?” the spirits remained silent as if considering their next set of words.

 

 _“You must take his hand, feel the connection and follow it. Do as you would do whenever you meditate, young master.”_ the spirits explained.

 

The archer nodded, “Understood.”

 

 _“Young master, if you must know,”_ the dragon that was resting beside Jesse’s head voiced, _“You will begin your task when you find the first part of this man that heard about the string, then follow up the path until you reach the end.”_

__

_“And remember, he is lost. Be careful of not becoming lost yourself.”_

 

The Shimada heir nodded, “Understood.”

__

Before he began, Hanzo took off the silken ribbon that was usually tied to his hair allowing the inky shoulder length strands to fall freely over his neck. The archer proceeded to hand over the golden cloth to one of the dragons, “If Jesse wakes up and I find myself unable to return along with him, please give this to him with my apologies.”

 

 _“We will, young master.”_  they both answered in unison.

 

With that covered the archer took the cowboy’s right hand in his left, fingers intertwined and closed his eyes.

 

Time passed in a slow manner as Hanzo slowly fell into a trance-like state.

 

Noises began to vanish as he focused on their linked hands and the main source of energy that would guide him through that endeavor, the red string.

 

It was like falling into nothingness, he lost awareness of his surroundings. It was similar to falling asleep, but aware of it happening. Then it was all dark, except for the faint red glow of the thread. He felt a small force pulling him towards the reddish light, as if it was the thread itself beckoning him and Hanzo simply followed it.

 

 _“You think he will be triumphant?”_ one dragon inquired.

 

 _“He is quite stubborn.”_  the other replied.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The smell of dry earth and the scorching sun upon his face were the first things that Hanzo became aware of as he opened his eyes. The red soil reached as far as the eyes could see and, small clouds of dust rising from the ground due to the wind were things that he could only remember from Jesse’s old stories.

 

Those old tales that the cowboy told the archer over and over again about a place far away, where both of them could run off to and be free.

 

But like everything else, those tales that Jesse had told him as they laid in each other’s arms as the darkness fell upon the gardens of the Shimada castle were nothing more than that, old memories.

 

Nothing else.

 

Then the archer raised his head and the peaceful azure of the cloudless sky greeted him. The elder Shimada stared quietly, for such a beautiful hue upon the sky itself should be impossible, and yet there it was.

 

Just like Jesse once told him.

 

Just the same.

 

Hanzo then became aware of a distant song. It was low enough to be concealed easily, and yet loud enough as to give away the position of the person that was singing.

 

He followed the melody, then realized there was no need for he could have just followed the string instead. Only because he had a slight suspicion as to who was the one singing in the first place.

 

That was how he found a young Jesse McCree sitting on top of an old wooden crate under the shade of a desert willow. The tree had small clusters of bell-shaped flowers all over its branches. The pink colored buds reminded Hanzo of the cherry blossoms back in his old home.

 

“Bang! Bang! My baby shot me down.” the song was finished as Hanzo approached. The younger boy had a red bandanna wrapped around his neck, seemed that ever since childhood the cowboy’s preferred color had always been red. Over the mop of brown hair the other boy wore a hat. It was nothing like the Stetson he would usually don, but close in looks.

 

“Greetings.” Hanzo offered, the young Jesse heard the voice and raised his head.

 

“Howdy pardner!” McCree greeted enthusiastically, bright smile spread upon his freckled face as he offered a hand to the archer, “I’m Jesse!” he said as he shook the Shimada’s heir hand, “And you are?”

 

It was on that moment that Hanzo noticed that his hand was as small as McCree’s, they were both roughly the same age probably five or six years old. Out of the two, the archer believed that he was probably a year older than the cowboy.

 

“I am…” the archer had no idea as to what to tell him. Would the gunner be able to recognize him?

 

As the silence continued to spread Jesse simply took it upon himself to fill it. “Do angels don’t have names? ‘Cause that’s probably what you are.” the younger one pointed out, “Yer very pretty.”

 

Slightly flushed, the archer replied. “I am...” Hanzo hesitated once more, "My name is..."

 

"Willow flower?" the cowboy asked then gave a big toothy smile to Hanzo, "'Cause that's what you look like. Even yer face's turnin' pink, like the flowers of the willow tree."

 

"No..." the Shimada heir sighed, "My name is... Hanzo." was Jesse going to be able to recognize him after he told him his name?

 

Only thing to do was to await the younger boy's response.

 

“Pretty name for a pretty face.” the tan boy whistled, and that made Hanzo wonder if McCree had always been such a flirt all of his life. “Nice to meet ya. Even though I feel like I've seen ya before.” he shrugged.

 

“Likewise.” Shimada replied, then wondered internally if McCree would question as to _where_ or _if_ they had met before even more.

 

“What are ya doin’ here anyhow? Ya lost?” the cowboy inquired instead. The whole conversation took a different turn as to what the archer had been expecting. 

 

The question itself was innocent, but Hanzo pondered over his answer while Jesse began moving to the side of the crate managing to create a bit of space for the archer to sit beside him.

 

“I am looking for someone.” Hanzo replied while taking a seat upon the offered space over the crate.

 

“Ya’ll passin’ by here then, that’s why I’ve never seen ya before.” the gunner received a nod as a response.

 

“Can I ask ya a question, Hanzo?”

 

“Of course.”

 

The cowboy kept on swinging his legs for a while before he finally formulated the question. The crystalline azure hue of the sky took Hanzo’s attention until he heard the soft words coming from McCree.

 

“Do ya see it?”

 

“Do I see what?”

 

“The string, ya silly.” he made a wrapping gesture around his right hand, “The one that connects people.”

 

Hanzo hesitated before answering, “...Yes?”

 

“Ah, well. I don’t. ‘cause my mama said I’ll get to see it when it’s time.” McCree nodded his head a few times, causing the over-sized hat he wore to swing along with it.

 

“Can you see mine?”

 

The cowboy was clearly referring to the string, and yet Hanzo considered pretending not to know what was being asked by the younger boy.

 

But that would be counterproductive, for in the end confusing Jesse was the last thing he wanted to do. They both needed to get out of these memories or whatever they were as soon as possible, before it was impossible for them to do so.

 

“Yes.” the archer answered plainly.

 

“Does mine…” Jesse pointed directly at Hanzo’s hand, “Does it connect to yours?” the cowboy asked shyly, his freckles more evident as a slight blush took over his face.

 

The Shimada heir realized that he had the chance to tell the young cowboy the truth right then and there, but somehow felt apprehensive to do so.

 

What if this was the right moment?

 

But what if it _wasn’t_?

 

If Jesse was truly lost then where he was right on that moment was simply the tip of the iceberg, for nothing in the life of Hanzo Shimada was ever easy to attain.

 

The archer hesitated, “No.” he replied, “It does not.”

 

McCree’s face lost its hopeful look and his shoulders sagged a little, disappointment clear in his posture.

 

“Alright’y. Don’t need it anyway.” he smiled, “My ma told me that not everyone needs those anyway.”

 

“Wise woman.” the archer said, to that McCree nodded along.

 

The silence between the two boys continued until Hanzo felt a small tug on his arm.

 

“Hey, ya wanna play?”

 

Not knowing what to say the archer simply nodded. “What are we playing?”

 

“Cowboys and bandits.” Jesse answered animatedly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. McCree stood up and walked to the left, there perched over a boulder were two sticks that he brought over careful as to not hit Hanzo as he passed by the crate.

 

“Here’s your horse.” he announced proudly.

 

As Hanzo extended his hand to receive the aforementioned horse, he noticed that the string’s color had improved a little. Instead of a fading red, the glow had increased slightly. It was somewhat brighter.

 

Slow progress, but progress nonetheless.

 

Besides, he was just starting. And that right there, was a good sign.

 

They both took the sticks and rode around pretending to be cowboys, finger pistols at the ready. Each time one ran after the other they were usually yelling, “Bang! Bang!”

 

Laughter took over more than once, and for a moment Hanzo forgot as to why he was there in the first place until a feminine voice in the distance called for McCree.

 

“Jesse mijo, es hora de comer!”

 

“Sí mamá, ya voy!” the cowboy yelled back.

 

Both boys stopped running around, “I gotta go Hanzo.” the Shimada heir nodded in response, yet, he was not sure if he had to follow McCree around until he found the part of him that wanted to return along with him back to the physical plane.

 

So, the archer simply said his goodbyes and readied himself to keep on looking, thing was that he was not sure as to what he was looking for since the dragons said to follow the thread and the thing in question was tied to Jesse.

 

Who had just been called away by seemingly, his mother.

 

And was about to walk away.

 

Should he follow the other boy?

 

“I will see you soon, Jesse.” the quiet words brought a small sense of apprehension to the archer.

 

Unexpectedly so, the cowboy gave the archer a small peck on the cheek and then ran off in the same direction from where the voice of his mother kept on calling him.

 

“Bye Hanzo! I hope ya find whoever ya are lookin’ for!” the gunslinger waved as he faded in the distance. The archer was still standing underneath the desert willow tree, a few flowers fell over from it.

 

The string of fate flared slightly for a moment, becoming as red as Hanzo’s face.

 

“Silly cowboy.” he said, bringing his hand to cover the side of his face that had been kissed.

 

Then suddenly, the sky’s tranquil cerulean tone disappeared. Instead of the peaceful blue expanse, heavy storm clouds took over.

 

Then, there was a scream.

 

And then, nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translation notes:
> 
> “Jesse mijo, es hora de comer!” ---"Jesse my boy (my son) it's time to eat!"
> 
> “Sí mamá, ya voy!” --- "Yes mom, I'm coming!"


	5. Soot and Cinder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kudos and comments.  
> Your comments make my day and leave me smiling for hours. Thank you so much!  
> I'm truly glad to know you're all enjoying the story so far.
> 
> One of the songs that inspired this chapter is: Cosmic Love by Florence + The Machine.

* * *

 

As the heavy clouds were spreading so did Hanzo’s doubt as to why he was there to begin with. The archer was not even sure if Jesse truly wanted to return at all.

 

But he had diligently accepted this quest and he would see it to its very end.

 

And yet there was one question lingering in his mind.

 

Why had he appeared as a child in Jesse’s memory?

 

That the cowboy was a young boy as a reflection of his own subconsciousness was to be expected, but why had Hanzo been a kid as well? And how did McCree even manage to interact with him?

 

Was it because of the bond?

 

 _“Being in direct contact with the string can cause memories to blend together.”_ a far away voice supplied helpfully, but Shimada was not sure to whom it belonged to.

 

The clouds became even darker, until everything was enveloped by shadows except for a slight sliver of light in the distance.

 

The archer chose to approach it with caution lest it was either a trap or something worse. For who really knew what could be expected in a place such as the one he was on that exact moment. It may be filled with memories and raw emotions but the human mind has always been complex and tricky.

 

It paid to be careful, specially in such an unknown situation as the one he was in.

 

In the distance, the archer could make McCree’s silhouette in front of what appeared to be a grave. Hanzo chose to approach in silence, unsure of what he would see and how the younger boy would react as well.

 

But all he saw was the young cowboy leaving flowers from the desert willow tree on top of said grave. The younger boy’s hat held between trembling hands and the mop of brown hair covering his eyes.

 

The dragons never truly mentioned if all the memories would be as happy as of that in which he took part of before, but the archer truly did not expect it.

 

And by the look of things, his suspicions had been proven to be correct.

 

It is said that everything does blend together. One cannot have happiness without a relative amount of sadness.

 

And yet the rough amount of emotions that were radiating from the cowboy were overwhelming. The archer more than once considered approaching the other boy but wondered if his presence would be unwelcome.

 

“I’m alone now.” the small far away echo of the younger McCree made Hanzo have the strongest desire to reach for him, to hold him and to assure him that everything was going to be all right.

 

For no one should be standing by their lonesome and crying in the darkness.

 

But then as the words faded in the distance so it did the last sliver of light. Jesse vanished along with it leaving behind only suffocating darkness with only the glowing string of fate as a source of light.

 

All was silent afterward.

 

_It ends darlin’._

__

_Smile._

 

The quiet echo of his soulmate’s words returned. Hanzo wondered if they were meant to be words of comfort or a farewell of sorts. He had wondered more than once in the long time it took the team to return to the watchpoint as to what did those words meant. There was so much implied in them, and yet the archer could not make heads or tails out of such.

 

Hanzo hoped they were __not__  meant to be a goodbye.

 

In the enveloping silence and consequential darkness everything felt closed off, the shadows felt suffocating.

 

The stillness was _unnerving_.

 

And the quietness more so.

 

All of it reminded the archer of that time in which he had to hide from assassins as a child inside of one of the old kitchens in the Shimada castle. The old clay oven closed off around him, the stagnated smell of ash and old smoke making it difficult for such a young child to breathe.

 

He remembered feeling such lonesomeness as his mother ran off to find Genji in the nursery and his father was nowhere to be found, the men sent form another clan were clearly looking for the heir and so Hanzo did the best he could to hide away, a small stuffed bear that resembled a panda clutched to his chest as his small body was curled amongst old soot and pieces of half-burnt charcoal.

 

He cried for hours but couldn’t bring himself to do it loudly, his hiccups were muffled by the old and ratty stuffed panda. He couldn’t see anything and no one knew where he was. The archer recalled how scared he had been and that his heart was beating so fast on that moment that he feared the noise would give away his position. He tried to steel himself as he remembered his father’s words. _'_

 

_A Shimada does not cry.'_

 

Still, he couldn’t help but to cry even more, for he was a child with barely enough height as to reach the top of a high table.

 

His father always told him not to cry, for a Shimada should not cry and yet whenever Genji -who was four years old at the time- cried, he was coddled whilst Hanzo was scolded for doing the same at that age. The Shimada heir wasn’t even expecting people to come after him, for he knew that perhaps others were more important than him and they took priority.

 

The young archer recalled how he hummed an old children song that one of his caretakers often sang to him. It told the story of an acorn that had rolled down the mountain and ended up in a pond of fish and, just like the acorn had cried for the desire to return to the mountain overwhelmed it, so did Hanzo, for he wanted to go home.

 

He was found by his father hours later. But, to put it correctly he went to the elder Shimada’s calling.

 

Sojiro called for his heir as he stood stone faced at the door of the old kitchen while a very dirty Hanzo completely covered in ash and soot came crawling out of the old oven, the stuffed panda was equally as dirty as its owner.

 

The face of the young Shimada heir was covered in soot except for the parts where the tears had made a track only to be smudged over by the attempts of the young boy to clean his face with the back of his hand. His semi-long hair was tangled and held some pieces of burnt wood among the inky strands, the white and blue yukata he wore was covered by ash and one of his sandals was missing.

 

His father’s stern face as he scowled at Hanzo, had brought a shudder down the heir’s spine.

 

That was what that darkness had reminded him of.

 

Of being alone and uncertain of his own fate. Of not really knowing if someone was or would ever truly be there for him.

 

Of not knowing if he was even wanted by anyone to begin with.

 

* * *

 

 

_“A Shimada does not cry.” his father stated impassively._

_Hanzo merely nodded, one of his hands rubbing his eyes and exhaustion clear in the young boy’s mannerism. “Yes father.” he replied, voice low and filled with shame instead of tiredness._

 

_The Shimada heir had felt like he was a weakling as his father leveled him with an indifferent look._

_It never occurred to Hanzo that his father was equally harsh with everyone else. He simply believed that he was never going to become good enough in the eyes of his father to ever earn any other look from his father as to that of disappointment._

 

_Still, in his young mind the Shimada heir considered what had just happened as a failure in the eyes of his father._

 

* * *

 

 

True, he had been in worse places since then, but it is usually said that what happens to a person as a child often holds more weight within their mind.

 

He had no desire to leave McCree alone so that he could feel the same despair and loneliness as he once did but, knowing how the lives of people such as them turned out, the archer was more than sure that the cowboy had been through something similar more than once.

 

Specially after witnessing that memory of a young McCree standing in front of that grave.

 

The shadows still surrounded Hanzo and he had not the slightest idea as to where to go. The string was there, glowing faintly still. Shimada wondered if he should continue to follow the thread.

 

Would he end up in another set of memories or would he get to nowhere in particular?

 

The dragons did say more than once that he should follow the string, for that would be his guide.

 

Yet he _doubted_.

 

What if the cowboy was happy to be rid of him? Of their bond?

 

Jesse was not aware of the bond anyway. The gunslinger had nothing to lose for he knew not of the link between him and the archer.

 

What if even unknowingly so, McCree was more than glad to be rid of a relationship that only encompassed some weeks in a long past summer?

 

The fact that Hanzo yearned for the cowboy to finally see the string that linked both of their souls, did not meant that McCree was also willing for that to be so.

 

What if by being unaware of the bond the cowboy was _happier_?

 

Awakening the gunslinger was a priority but, what if after doing it so McCree still kept his distance? Just as he had done so far since the archer arrived at the watchpoint in Gibraltar.

 

Maybe, that was how it was meant to be then.

 

In his thoughts, Hanzo recalled the dragons’ words once more; one of them could be lost in this endeavor and the archer realized that maybe not both of them should return.

 

That perhaps Jesse would be happier _without_  him around.

 

After all, the cowboy had said more than once that he did not need the string of fate to find happiness with another person.

 

Perhaps it was better that way.

 

Besides, McCree carried a light within him that could put the sun to shame. His personality was something that other people were drawn to. The cowboy was kind, thoughtful, and wiser beyond what he let on. A great strategist and a steadfast fighter who adapted quickly to any circumstances whether he was in the battlefield or somewhere else. The gunslinger’s friends were always seeking his company for he was as warm as the first rays of sunlight on a cold foggy morning.

 

Whilst the elder Shimada was the complete opposite.

 

Perhaps, McCree would be happier without Hanzo around.

 

Maybe, everyone else would be as well.

 

The archer dared not move a muscle as doubt crept within his head for what seemed to be ages. He stood still, his likeness was close to that of a marble statue until he heard the distant echo of McCree’s voice.

 

The cowboy was _singing_.

 

The voice seemed distant at first, yet the tone increased gradually as if the one serenading was drawing closer to the assassin.

 

The song was the same one that the cowboy had been crooning when he had been sitting under the desert willow. The lyrics spoke of lovers that had met as children and played with horses made out of sticks, just as Hanzo and Jesse had done before the darkness swallowed everything.

 

That voice was lulling him into a more peaceful set of thoughts and offering a small sense of comfort as the archer stood motionless in the shadows.

 

Gradually so, the string began to glow slightly brighter again. It became a glistening line that was ostensibly lightning up a path that Hanzo could follow, even if he could not see where it ended, the archer decided to go after it. There was no point on wasting any more time when Jesse was needed in the waking world. A man as dedicated and bright such as McCree who maybe without even realizing it, was giving Hanzo the strength he needed to continue in his quest was needed in the world.

 

The archer was more than sure that McCree was needed back among those who, just like him, wanted to make the world a better place one day at a time.

 

For that was the kind of people the world needed. Bright, wise and kind.

 

As well as brave and sweet.

 

And all that was what Jesse McCree encompassed.

 

 _‘The world would go on without Hanzo Shimada. Perhaps it would even become a better place without me.’_ the archer often said to himself. But, the Shimada heir would be dammed if he was to allow the cowboy to be lost when he could stop it from happening. Knowing that there were people eagerly waiting for McCree to awaken.

 

The archer took a few steps in the direction that the string was pointing to.

 

It was like walking through a long dark corridor. But at the end of it, as if by design, the darkness tore open; letting up in likeness to that of a curtain before a theater play began.

 

At first the archer could discern nothing, except for blurry shapes and distant noises. He wondered where he was but concluded that wherever he had stepped into was where he was supposed to be. Jesse had spoken to Hanzo as if he had known him his whole life, which was a close guess seeing as the string had them tied not only in body, but their souls as well. With that in mind, the archer surmised that he was where the string of fate _wanted_ him to be.

 

A step closer to bringing McCree back into the waking world.

 

The memory of McCree bleeding out upon the concrete floor of that abandoned facility haunted Hanzo as much as that of Jesse hooked to several machines to keep him alive. The Shimada heir had no desire to see that happen to the cowboy ever again. Somehow the archer felt responsible.

 

He should have been faster.

 

He should have paid closer attention.

 

He should have said something about the dark presage that the mission elicited in him. How in the stillness of that sleepless night he felt as if something was going to end up terribly wrong.

 

And as such, it did so.

 

It was _his_  fault.

 

And he should be the one to correct that mistake.

 

He needed to redeem himself.

 

No matter the cost.

 

Coming out of his train of thought the archer blinked several times, and that was when Hanzo saw him.

 

Jesse stood a few meters away from where the archer was. He wore an old sleeveless jacket with what was obviously the Deadlock’s gang logo on the back. His clothes were worn and featured patches of dust here and there as well as a few tears.

 

Dusty cowboy boots donned with spurs, and chaps over well worn jeans completed the look.

 

McCree couldn’t have been older than twelve years old, and he was already involved with that gang. On that moment Hanzo wondered if what he saw before the shadows took over, that image of a six year old Jesse standing in front of that grave, had been the turning point in which the cowboy had ended up involved with such an unsavory crowd.

 

Not that the elder Shimada’s life had been any different as he had been born into a crime family, but if that was a memory, then it only shows how messed up both of their lives had been from an early age.

 

The archer took in his surroundings before approaching the gunslinger. The ground, albeit barely visible, -as it was covered by the veil of night- was still a rich rusted red in color. Sparse vegetation dotted various parts of the terrain, and on the far end there was a desert willow.

 

Long branches, heavy with elongated green leaves and bell-shaped flowers blooming in shades of pink and lavender were clearly visible even in the dark of night.

 

The sky was featuring a great amount of stars. The distant lights twinkling over the dark expanse.

 

The Shimada heir approached the cowboy silently, for he dared not to break such a peaceful instant if he could help it.

 

“Howdy darlin’.” McCree greeted him as if he had expected the archer to be there to begin with, the tip of his fingers reaching for the brim of his hat.

 

Then, without a second thought the cowboy was walking animatedly towards where the archer stood with a radiant smile upon his face, eyes bright and hopeful. Jesse welcomed him with the glee one would greet someone they hadn’t seen in a long time.

 

The same amount of eagerness one would show to a loved one.

 

“What are you doing here?” Hanzo inquired.

 

“I could ask you the same, darlin’.” Jesse took a small pause followed by another smile, “But if ya must know, I come here for peace.” he pointed at the impromptu shooting range that surrounded them. A few old glass bottles along with old soda cans were lined up on the far end of the area resting upon a rickety wooden fence.

 

The younger boy was slightly taller than the archer. An old hat over the brown locks and a battered red kerchief tied around his neck. A familiar six-shooter held in one hand as the gunslinger aimed at a distantly placed soda can.

 

The bullet went through the center of the metallic container in a swift motion.

 

Putting back the old gun into its holster and then proceeding to take his hat off, the cowboy gave the archer a short nod as he kept on holding the old Stetson to his chest, smiling as if Hanzo was the most special person upon the world.

 

As if he had been waiting for the Shimada heir for a whole lifetime.

 

The cowboy then proceeded to place the hat over his head once more and in a quick motion he embraced the archer. Both arms holding him firmly yet with all the care that Jesse could muster. It was warm and comforting. McCree smelled like gunpowder and hay, he felt as pleasant as a sun warmed blanket placed upon cold skin.

 

That hug was probably another result of the bond they shared, Hanzo mussed.

 

The emotions on Jesse’s part could be the raw reflection of not only the bond but his true feelings and yet Hanzo still doubted that, for he believed them to be nothing more than a reflex caused by the string of fate.

 

The archer relaxed into the embrace nonetheless, his face coming to rest between the cowboy’s neck and shoulder, his lips ghosting over the taller boy’s strong pulse.

 

McCree felt _alive_.

 

A far cry from that comatose body that the archer knew his hand was holding onto in the waking world. Hanzo knew that what was happening on that moment was not real, and yet he couldn’t let go.

 

“Stars and wishes, do you believe in them?” the cowboy asked out of the blue.

 

“I…” the archer hesitated, “I am not sure.” the archer pushed himself away from the gunner only to have Jesse embracing him once more.

 

“Did ya find whoever ya were lookin’ for?” the inquire itself was innocent yet it carried an air of hopefulness from the other boy.

 

“I do not know.”

 

“How can ya not know?” Jesse asked as he faced the older boy once again, the feeling of McCree’s arms as he had embraced Hanzo was still there even as the taller one’s hands held only onto Hanzo’s shoulders instead.

 

“It is difficult to explain.” the archer retorted.

 

“Come sit with me.” the cowboy adjusted the bright red kerchief he had tied around his neck with his left hand, whilst he took Hanzo’s hand with the other, their fingers intertwined.

 

Both boys sat underneath the starry sky in the improvised shooting range. The old desert willow was periodically dropping bell-shaped pink blossoms upon the ground, a few bushes of blue wild rye had grown sparsely around the area. A gentle breeze caressed Hanzo’s face, his shoulder length hair moving along with it. The blue rye shifting as if was dancing along with a silent song.

 

Those small moments in which Hanzo had interacted with the younger McCree had brought the archer a sense of peace and comfort. Something akin to completion itself. As if his soul had mended. As if he had found a missing piece that belonged to him and he hadn’t even known that it had ever existed to begin with.

 

Something he had wished to have found when he was younger, just like others had done so. But the archer had never had such luck. The Shimada heir wondered if those memories were also being turned into something else due to his wishful thinking.

 

He was brought out of his reverie by McCree’s words.

 

“Your hair is colored like the sky on a moonless night. I wonder if ya got stars hidin’ in that head of yours.” the cowboy pondered as he absentmindedly tucked a tuft of inky dark hair behind the archer’s ear.

 

Hanzo was speechless.

 

“But who knows, maybe you are the star.” one hand caressed the archer’s cheek, “My Northern star, guidin' me home.” the soft words left the cowboy’s lips as he gently took Hanzo’s face between both of his hands and kissed his lips tenderly.

 

The cowboy’s lips were warm and the kiss was feather light, completely gentle.

 

Hanzo wished for that short minute to last for eternity.

 

But as the archer opened his eyes slowly he took notice of the absence of not only McCree but also of anything in else particular. The desert willow, the shooting ground, the old rickety fence and the blue rye were gone.

 

Once more, he was surrounded by nothing more than a dark empty space.

 

Hanzo was back in the shadows but then as if for cue, the string of fate was once more lighting up. Glowing increasingly bright as the scene slowly faded to black.

 

As if the shadows were the curtain that fell over the stage when the performance was complete.

 

But the string was still there. Glowing faintly still, but emitting light nonetheless.

 

His only source of light being the thread of fate, as everything else had once more been engulfed by the dark and the silence. Just like McCree had been something similar for him all of those years ago.

 

He still is. For the cowboy is a beacon of hope in Hanzo’s mind, he had always considered it so.

 

The Shimada heir felt hope blossoming within his chest. McCree was there, somewhere. A part of the cowboy was willing to go back to his old life and Hanzo knew it to be so.

 

He just needed to keep on searching.

 

And he was going to, even if it took him an eternity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that kid Hanzo was singing is an old Japanese children rhyme called: A Rolling Acorn or Donguri Korokoro.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by, have a great day!


	6. Deadlock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the delay on this update. Here on the Caribbean we've been hit by various hurricanes in a short amount of time without much time in between the storms, so electrical power and internet access were a bit difficult to get back.
> 
> All right, I hope you enjoy this chapter.
> 
> And thank you all for all the kudos and comments, you keep me inspired to continue this story. I'm really grateful that you all find time in your days to stop by and read this story, you are all amazing!

* * *

 

The fading light of dusk as it turned into the penumbra of twilight was the first thing that received Hanzo as he continued yet to follow the string. As it had happened previously, the sudden change from utter darkness to light always managed to leave him disoriented for a brief period of time, and as it had transpired before, this time was no different either.

 

As the archer’s eyes grew accustomed not only to the change of scenery but also to the addition of a light source other than the string of fate, he took notice of the new location that he had found himself in. It was a poorly illuminated room, no windows and a single pool table right in the middle of two doors, an old couch that had seen better days and numerous posters taped along the yellowed walls. Empty liquor bottles and several glasses littered the place along with ashtrays filled with half-smoked cigarettes.

 

The Deadlock logo that was outlined over one of the cracked walls was a harsh reminder of where he was. Presumably, outside of that place there were either more rooms similar to the one the Shimada heir was at the moment or there was nothing beyond those doors.

 

He had no idea, for he hadn’t seen anything more than what Jesse’s memories and the string had showed him so far.

 

Yet it occurred to the archer, that what he was currently seeing and everything else he’d experienced before by following the string were supposed to be McCree’s memories, and still the fact that he was allowed to interact with them was a scary new concept. Hanzo reasoned that he shouldn’t even be seen by the cowboy let alone be able to speak with him, but so far everything had become a convoluted mess.

 

How was Jesse even aware that Hanzo was there?

 

The bond could only do so much, and even by being in contact with the string or connected to the soulmate’s side of it should have limits.

 

What if by being where he was at the current moment the bond was being altered and overridden by his own wishful thinking?

 

What if by being there he was just ruining Jesse’s perception of what was real and what wasn’t?

 

What if after all he’d done McCree won’t be the same after waking up?

 

Hanzo was more than aware that he’d done more harm than good in his life, and that even by trying to remedy his wrongdoings he had somehow brought ruin more than once. The Shimada heir had known bloodshed from a very young age, he has seen and done things he would wish to erase from his memory and yet there he was, laying waste to the memories of man that he was supposed to be linked to as his soulmate.

 

What was he _doing_?

 

Was he destroying Jesse’s notion of what had transpired between them by inserting wishful thinking and false memories into the cowboy’s past without even meaning it?

 

So much to ponder over and yet so little time to do so.

 

Suddenly the brightness of the string flared up and a young Jesse, not older than perhaps fifteen or sixteen years old was playing the guitar and singing while sitting on a wooden chair in the far corner. The Stetson, the red neckerchief and the boots with spurs were all there, as always, part of the cowboy’s attire. The old six-shooter was held by the younger man’s hip in a battered leather pistol holster.

 

The archer made a quick check on himself, noticing his own long hair and the orange and white traditional attire he wore. As always, he was roughly around the gunner’s same age as well. The memories were probably still accommodating for both of their presences within McCree’s consciousness and with their direct contact with the thread of fate.

 

The assassin was almost sure that the gunner hadn’t been there before his arrival, but for Hanzo it suddenly made sense that Jesse was sitting on that corner. Perhaps he had been there since before the archer arrived, and Hanzo hadn’t simply taken notice.

 

“My sunshine is here.” the cowboy announced as the song ended and he stroked the last notes of the ballad on the acoustic guitar. The fading melody brought a certain degree of stillness upon the room.

 

Silence continued to permeate the room after McCree spoke, for the archer had no idea as to what to say to the younger man. There was so much he needed to be told and Hanzo was not sure how to reveal it.

 

“Want to take a walk with me?” the question itself seemed hopeful. As if McCree had been waiting for Hanzo all along.

 

“No…” the Shimada heir replied in a harsh tone then paused for a moment as he pondered over his next words, “I just want you to come with me.”

 

“No fair sweetheart, I asked ya first.” the cowboy laughed. The sound somehow made the archer’s heart flutter, it felt as if a hummingbird was taking flight within his chest.

 

“It is important that you listen to me, McCree.” Hanzo’s words left no room for further argument.

 

“Where to sugar? Not that it matters none,” the cowboy shrugged as he ostensibly accepted readily the elder Shimada’s request. “I just wanna know where ya’ll be takin’ me.”

 

“Back home.” was the blunt answer.

 

“But this,” the gunslinger stood up slowly, putting the guitar away as he did so, “this, is _home_ right here sweetpea.” he pointed out as if it was more than obvious.

 

“No, it is not.”

 

“Yes it is. This is my family, Deadlock is _my_  family.” he stated, his words were unnecessarily loud. “And so long as ya are here with me I don’t need anythin’ more than that.”

 

“You have a family that is not composed by a group of criminals and scum, and if you were to come with me you would be seeing them again.” the archer hissed, he needed to make the cowboy see reason.

 

“That’s a filthy lie and ya know it.” the gunslinger retorted, anger clear in his facial expression. Voice seething with slow boiling anger. “I have none other family than these _criminals_  and _scum_. And I’m one of ‘em so in this case I’m _scum_  too.”

 

“You must understand, McCree.” Shimada countered but was interrupted before making his point across.

 

“Understand what?" the gunslinger practically yelled.

 

"That you do not belong here, McCree." Hanzo responded.

 

"Yes I do belong here, this is _my_ home." he hissed, "And stop callin' me McCree!” the cowboy demanded, his voice tone was completely hostile. “This is _my family_ , ‘cause no one else has ever cared for Jesse McCree other than _them_.” he pointed a finger to his chest. “They fed me and clothed me, I ain’t gonna go and lie and say it was easy growin’ up among them, ‘cause it wasn’t.”

 

The gunslinger sighed heavily as he tried to calm his breathing and heart-rate after the outburst he just had. The silence that surrounded both young men was deafening. Hanzo had no idea as to how to respond to such an upheaval for he had mostly dealt with Genji’s tantrums -that revolved around the younger Shimada wanting toys that did not belong to him and junk food- while growing up. Not with these heartfelt feelings of his soulmate as he was attached to a place such as this.

 

“But at least they _cared_  for me when no one else did.” Jesse added with a tone of finality.

 

Hanzo pondered over what he had just heard. The attachment that the cowboy felt towards the Deadlock gang was overwhelmingly obvious but the archer knew better than anyone what it was like to feel obligation towards those who saw you growing up. How they saw anyone under their command as just another cog in the well oiled machine of organized crime was something Hanzo knew better than most, and McCree was obviously familiar with it too.

 

Such attachment would most certainly end up leading one blindly, to make those who fall in it into nothing more than another weapon to be wielded in the name of those who were the higher ups and never saw the underlings as anything more than disposable pawns in a chess game.

 

“I only ever had them and you, ya know? Sometimes I dreamed of you when I was a kid you where always there all silent and serious never smilin’ unless I went and played with you or spoke to you.”

 

“What do you even mean by that McCree?”

 

“What I just said sugarbean. That I saw you when I was little.” he pointed his index finger at Hanzo, “I had no idea who you were, but I saw you sometimes. Mostly whenever I slept and it didn’t feel like a dream. It felt real, and I knew you were important but never knew how much ‘til now darlin’.”

 

Hanzo recalls those dreams with nostalgic clarity, for they were often an escape from a cruel and lonely reality. The archer often found solace in them for even if he believed them to be another result from the bond and that the man that was at the other end of the string was unaware of them, they were a sliver of light in a completely shadowed existence. Still, it seemed that the cowboy had been much the same as the elder Shimada had, sharing those dreams.

 

Many a person had said over the ages how the string tends to react differently depending of the individual. Some people affirmed they could hear their soulmate’s heartbeat, others say they could feel small bits of their emotions, others that they shared dreams and the list goes on. Each experience was different and no one could really tell what a soulmate shared with another other than them.

 

Still, that was probably it. Whatever Jesse had seen in those dreams was what caused him to recognize Hanzo even as a young boy in those memories. It wasn’t because of wishful thinking or due to anything more special than the string that the cowboy recognized the archer. It was because he had seen Hanzo’s face before through their shared dreams across the bond.

 

It wasn’t because Jesse wanted Hanzo to be there but most likely because his own subconsciousness conjured old known images of the person within that place, or more specifically the being that was currently connected with the string so that Jesse would have a better understanding of who it was trying to make contact with him.

 

It could’ve probably worked if anyone else from McCree’s past was there as well, that way the cowboy would be able to see them as the reflections that he remembered and nothing more.

 

 _‘He can see and speak to me not because I mean much to him,’_  the archer thought. _‘It is simply because I am the only one who is here right now.’_

 

Still, Hanzo was more than determined as not to allow self-doubt to deter him from his objective. He had set a goal before getting into the current situation and that was to save McCree even at the cost of his own life.

 

The long stretch of silence came to an abrupt end as the cowboy cleared his throat loudly. “Darlin’ why so quiet?”

 

“I was simply contemplating my next words.” the archer replied in a low tone.

 

“Oh, and those would be?” the cowboy’s inquire seemed a bit too eager after the outburst he had mere minutes ago.

 

“You have people waiting for you. There is a life for you outside of this. A good life.” the Shimada heir continued trying to convince the gunslinger. “And if you come with me you could have it back. Do you want that? Do you not wish to have something more than mere dreams?”

 

“Are ya in it?” the gunner walked toward the Shimada heir slowly, “Are ya in this so _wonderful_  life ya keep on mentionin’?”

 

“Perhaps.”

 

Truth to be told Hanzo had been more than sure ever since he set foot in the watchpoint at Gibraltar that most Overwatch members would be more than glad to be rid of him, McCree among them. They were all Genji’s friends and he had been his murderer. The archer was convinced that given the chance after they filled their ranks with more agents that he would be disposed of.

 

As always, he thought that everyone would be better off without him. Specially Genji and Jesse.

 

“I need somethin’ more than a simple _maybe_ , pumpkin.”

 

“If you leave this place, then you could see it for yourself.” Hanzo was getting tired, even if he was aware from the beginning as to how stubborn the gunner could be this was a new level of inflexibility. “So, I ask again. Are you willing to leave this place and follow me?”

 

“No I don’t darlin’. This is all I’ve ever had and I’m happy with it so I’m stayin’.” the cowboy’s tone gave off a sense of finality.

 

“So be it then. I will be leaving, for there is no sense in me staying here if you are not willing to see reason.” the archer’s sharp tone managed to startle the cowboy. Hanzo could only hope that such words would persuade the gunner to leave these memories or mental constructs or wishful thinking or whatever they were, and _finally_  wake up.

 

“Yer supposed to stay with me too, darlin’.” McCree spoke in a low tone. “This place means nothin’ without you in it.”

 

That version of Jesse was happy to be there, in that exact set of old memories and Hanzo could not bring himself to force him away from them for he knew the importance of having a home. Yet, the glow of the string faltered for a short period of time as the archer acknowledged such a notion even if it was for a brief period of time.

 

Giving up was _not_  an option. It never had been.

 

He needed to continue.

 

It hadn’t occurred to Hanzo that his brass and impulsive attitude as he spoke to McCree was another direct result of not only the string but also the fact that they were both teenagers on that moment. As children they played in the memories, but as teens they were once more as abrupt as they had been so many years ago.

 

And still, the words that the cowboy had said in defense of a gang such as Deadlock spoke volumes of how loyal Jesse was. Hanzo was more than determined to give the ex-Blackwatch agent not only his life and family back but a second chance in finding love as well.

 

The Shimada heir was completely sure that Jesse was going to find someone better than Hanzo himself. Someone that would make Jesse smile each day of his life.

 

Someone worthy of all the love and devotion that Jesse McCree was capable of, and that Hanzo had received from the cowboy so long ago. For as brief as it had been.

 

Someone that was _not_  Hanzo Shimada.

 

 _‘For who would want a broken man such as myself as their soulmate?’_  Hanzo pondered

 

 _‘No one. That is more than obvious.’_  he retorted within his mind and hoped that Jesse could not hear his thoughts; for they were far too grim for someone who was supposed to be rescuing their soulmate. Other than that, he had no desire as to bring unnecessary worry upon Jesse as they were connected in an even closer way due to the string.

 

Jesse truly deserved better, and Hanzo sincerely hoped that he would find such after waking up. Besides McCree himself said it before, he doesn't need the string of fate to find happiness.

 

As Hanzo walked through the far away doors there was not only darkness but also shouting and gunshots all mixed together in an ill-fated cacophony. Voices yelling in various languages and calls for help mixed up with the sounds of guns being shot.

 

The archer stood in the ever-present darkness that always followed at the end of each memory slightly agitated, for such noises were never to prelude anything good.

 

In the shadowed space only the string glowed anew. The restored intensity was something that the archer relished in for a brief moment. That meant that he was indeed going in the right direction, and even after hearing noises such as those of guns going off and blood curdling screams in the dark, the elder Shimada was sure that that was indeed the path he had to follow.

 

“Don’t you be leavin’ me too my darlin’.” the words were nothing more than a mere whisper fading into the distance for the archer. Although knowing that he needed to continue moving forward, Hanzo considered going back more than once for his reason always seemed to slip away whenever the cowboy was concerned.

 

That was the main motive as to why he had embarked upon his current endeavor to begin with. So, Hanzo steeled himself and continued his march. Even if is heart felt heavy after hearing Jesse call for him.

 

The archer’s walk came to a sudden halt when in front of him instead of the enveloping darkness stood what he assumed were the facilities of the old Overwatch. The building itself was mostly concrete and glass windows. It reminded him of an old movie set. The front facade was in place but the whole place was devoid of life until the actors and recording crew came into play.

 

Contemplating whether or not to make his way into such a place was out of the question, for it was obvious that the next point where the string wanted him to get to was inside of the building.

 

The thread was clearly set into a straight line across the cemented ground, the steady red glow was becoming something akin to a breadcrumb trail for Hanzo.

 

As the archer reached the front main door he took a deep breath. He had no idea as to what to expect once he made his way inside.

 

Would Jesse be there to welcome him?

 

Would the cowboy be as welcoming as he’d always been or would he behave how he did before Hanzo left the last set of memories?

 

Not knowing what to expect but unwilling to hesitate any longer, the Shimada heir opened the door to find instead of a welcoming lobby, a shooting range. Bright walls comprising the place and high-tech targeting bots on the far end of the structure gave away the main purpose of the place.

 

And there, in the middle of the enormous room, stood none other than McCree.

 

As always in his cowboy attire and the six-shooter in hand and he gunned down a training bot. The bright red of the string of fate was as it had always been, tied to the same hand that held the pistol.

 

“Been waitin’ for ya, darlin’.” the gunslinger said without turning around. His voice seemed to engulf the whole place somehow. It was low and at the same time it bounced off the walls as if it was an echo coming from nowhere and everywhere at once. After placing the revolver back into its holster, McCree turned to face the archer in a swift motion.

 

“Ya were gone for so long, that I thought I was never gonna see ya again.”

 

Under the harsh lights of the training ground, the cowboy seemed different. His face was more angular and his eyes seemed distinct; his stare was more determined.

 

“I was not gone for long.” the Shimada heir retorted.

 

“But ya were.” McCree seemed unaware of the way Hanzo had to move within memories and yet it was more than logical that what was a few minutes for Hanzo as he moved from one point to the next, were months or perhaps years for Jesse. Even if these were simple memories for McCree they still were moments in time that he had _lived_ through.

 

And it was true, for if his account was correct then the McCree that stood before the Shimada heir was the one that had stopped dreaming about his soulmate due to the fact that around that same time Hanzo had taken his dragons as more than simple guardians as they not only became irrefutably connected to his soul, the Shimada heir had also learned to summon them for battle. The whole process had taken such a toll over the archer that the bond became strained, and the connection between him and the cowboy nearly broke.

 

But the fates have never been easily deterred, for as it has always been known, the string may tangle and become strained but it would never break.

 

The embrace came out of nowhere and yet it was welcome as it enveloped the Shimada heir in a pleasant grasp.

 

“I’m glad ya are here, I missed ya so much.” Jesse’s voice was muffled as he buried his face in Hanzo’s hair.

 

“I apologize for my prolonged absence.” the reply was merely a whisper as the archer placed his face over the cowboy’s shoulder, the smell of gunpowder and the desert were still clinging to the taller young man; for Hanzo those scents meant safety.

 

“Don’t ya be sorry my darlin’, ya are always worth the wait.” the gunner smiled, “Even when ya are slower than molasses, I’ll still wait for ya.”

 

“You are impossible.” Hanzo snickered.

 

“Yeah, been told that a few hundred times.” the reply was light-hearted and accompanied by yet another smile as the cowboy took the Shimada’s face between his hands and laid a feather light kiss over Hanzo’s lips. The small peck lasted no more than a few seconds before being followed by another set of three similar kisses. They felt as if they were the wings of a butterfly as they fluttered over one’s skin, Hanzo closed his eyes and relished in them.

 

As the warmth from the embrace began to fade away the archer refused to open his eyes for he so desired to reside in that moment in time for a little longer and yet knew it was impossible. Opening his eyes to find never-ending shadows that were only kept slightly at bay by the glowing red of the thread of fate, Hanzo felt slightly disappointed but not surprised.

 

“I’ll be seeing ya soon, for real this time darlin’.”

 

The fading voice once more echoed through the dark as the radiance of the string flared up lighting up the path toward the next set of memories. Hopefully all of this would be over soon and the gunner will bee soon seeing reason, for Hanzo could feel his strength faltering with each memory that he passed through.

 

As it was, the murky shadows began to let up, and the first thing the archer saw were the hills of Hanamura covered in pink petals as the cherry blossoms rained down, spreading over the ground in a bright blanket of rose colored buds.

 

“Told ya we would be seein’ each other soon.”

 

Jesse’s voice startled the archer out of his reverie as he found himself suddenly standing in the training grounds that were nearby gardens of the Shimada castle. Stormbow was in his hands and an arrow was ready to be shot toward the target in front of him.

 

The cowboy smiled brightly, his hat was held atop of his chest. “Pretty handy with that bow.” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by!


	7. Paper Stars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello there, Thank you so much for all the kudos and comments, you make my day every time I see one of those and I'm grateful to each of you who stop by to read this story! Thank you ever so much!
> 
> This chapter contains all of the main ideas that sprung this story into life. Back when I had planned to make it into a one-shot all of the plot was contained here but then, everything went out of control and it became a multi-chapter story as you all know.
> 
> So I was very excited to finally write down this chapter as a whole instead of a group of drabbles, as it turned out this chapter is 20 pages long. (I double checked each page after I finished it but there may be some grammatical errors, if so let me know and I apologize in advance if you find any.)
> 
> The text in _Italics_ is for a scene set on the past.  
>  The text in normal scrip is for present time within Jesse's consciousness.
> 
> I hope you like the chapter!

* * *

 

_Hanzo was able to recall with vivid clarity the moment in which he had laid eyes upon Jesse McCree for the first time. It wasn’t in a dream, for those do not count as reality. The archer can remember the brightness of the red kerchief that was tied to the cowboy’s neck, the gentle smile and the way that those expressive eyes looked at everything on the day that the Overwatch agents had arrived at the Shimada castle._

_He had been practicing with his bow when the taller young man sneaked past the guards and was standing up behind the Shimada heir with a look of admiration upon his face. His words as he had complimented the archer’s skill with the bow did not in fact surprise Hanzo, for he had heard the like of such plenty of times before, from people who desired to gain favors with the Shimada clan._

_No, what had actually surprised Hanzo was the fact that the cowboy that stood in front of him was the one that was connected to the end of the string._

_The dragons stirred in his left arm as the archer wondered if the young man in front of him could see the thread that connected them as well._

_“Pretty handy with that bow.” the cowboy had said, the Stetson held over his chest and an easy smile on his lips. “The name’s McCree. At your service.”_

_Time had seemed to stand still._

_The gentle breeze moved the branches of the trees that surrounded the space where both young men stood. As the sunlight filtered through the canopy, the light and shadows were casting an entrancing dance over the two soulmates._

_“Shimada Hanzo.” the archer introduced himself with a low voice, as his surprise wouldn’t allow him anything more than that._

_“Mind if I watch?”_

_“Do not speak and you may stay and watch.”_

_“Got it, darlin’.”_

 

* * *

 

 

That moment was something that the elder Shimada often recalled in his mind. It had been a peaceful yet dubious moment, for it had been full of uncertainties as neither of them knew what their respective intentions were. For all Hanzo knew McCree could have been an assassin under disguise.

 

As the fates would have it, he obviously wasn’t.

 

But now the circumstances were different. Even if they both resembled their younger counterparts, whatever was about to happen between the two of them in the set of those current shared memories would be entirely up to them. Would McCree’s conscious try to re-enact what they lived as teenagers or would he be willing to make up another set of recollections based upon their long-past escapades?

 

As he stood once more in front of the cowboy but with the moment being nothing more than a set of memories that both were reliving, the ambiguousness was gone, and instead replaced by a small sense of happiness that brought an easy smile upon the archer’s lips.

 

To be once more standing in front of his soulmate as they had been for the first time, reminded Hanzo of how much both of them had changed. Neither looked like they were on that set of memories anymore, -at least not physically- as life had not only filled their bodies with scars but also their minds.

 

But on that moment, the elder Shimada could pretend at least for a while that he had a home once more. That he had a future that albeit uncertain, he had been looking forward to.

 

The real question was, would there be enough time for it to be so?

 

“Took ya long enough, darlin’.” the easy way in which the cowboy smiled had always been something that amazed Hanzo to no end. It never failed to bring a small smile upon his lips as well.

 

“I am here nonetheless, regardless of my tardiness.”

 

“How ‘bout ya leave that bow and come have a nice walk with lil’ old me?” Jesse asked and at the same time offered his right hand to Hanzo. The cowboy was obviously unaware that the string was there, glowing like a red beacon in his hand.

 

This was the point where both of their lives and memories converged into one. These were moments in time that they had both shared physically. It had been the exact point where Hanzo had realized who was that held the other end of the string of fate that was tied to his left hand. There was no need for more uncertainty, for dreams can only show you so much. After such a long wait, the man he had been expecting to arrive was finally there with him.

 

This was the Hanzo that relied on his dreams to give him a slight bit of hope. The young archer whose entire life had been cut out for him except for the string of fate. That had been an unknown factor that his father often demanded that he disregarded in order to become the ruthless ruler that the Shimada’s crime empire required.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_“You do not need love to rule the clan, Hanzo.” Sojiro’s voice was cold and detached. “All you require is discipline, not feeble strings tied to the whims of the fates and the old gods.”_

_The Shimada heir remained silent. The stillness within his father’s office had always reminded him of a photograph. It was as if everything was frozen in time, everything was always the same and nothing ever changed._

_That was what his father expected of him._

_To continue the tradition of not only ruling the clan with an iron fist relying on the aid and guidance of the elders, but also to marry a person that was chosen for him by the elders as well. None of the past heirs of the Shimada clan had ever married for love. For the clan, marriage was an act of convenience._

_Love never had, and would never be, involved._

_It was more akin to a business transaction, to tie the family with another powerful and influential one in order to attain more power._

_“But Genji h-”_

_“Genji is ** **not****  the heir Hanzo.” the impassive tone in Sojiro’s voice left no room for further discussion. Not that Hanzo would ever dare to contradict his father, for the few times he ever attempted that when he was a child, it never had ended well. It was as it had always been. The sparrow has his wings to fly freely wherever he wished, but a dragon is always bound by duty, a dragon is a guardian._

_The dragon must remain guarding the castle. As it has always been._

_“Forget about the string and anything related to it, focus on the clan and nothing else.” the elder’s severe voice tone made Hanzo shiver, the archer’s back was as stiff as a plank of wood and his fist were held so tight that his nails were digging into the flesh of his palm. There was a small trail of blood that resembled a thread as it slid through the fingers of his left hand._

_“The only thing that should ever occupy your mind is your duty towards the clan, everything else comes second or is otherwise too unimportant for you to pay attention to it.”_

_The Shimada heir nodded stiffly._

_“Yes, father.”_

_“You will thank me in the future, Hanzo. For such attachments are not only foolish but will make you seem weak as well.” then with a flick of his hand he added, “You are dismissed.”_

_The archer stared at his left hand the whole time he spent walking towards the dojo. The half-moon shaped cuts still bled sluggishly and the warm liquid made small scarlet trails over the pale hand. The thread was glowing steadily among the bloodied marks on his skin, both tones of red were fairly different from one another._

_The crimson red reminded him of the young man that he knew was connected to the other end of the string. Red and gold were his colors. They were truly befitting of him as well, for they contrasted nicely with the sun kissed skin._

_Perhaps that was it. He was fated to know who his soulmate was, but reaching him was an impossibility._

_After all, his father’s words were law in the confines of the Shimada castle, and Hanzo was trapped within those walls._

 

* * *

 

 

Hanzo had always despised that memory.

 

For it had always reminded him of the fact the he had been groomed to be merely another tool amongst the clan. A puppet of sorts. A simple face to show the other clans who was in power, but behind closed doors, the ones with the true power were the elders. For they were the puppet masters managing the strings attached to whoever was the supposed leader of the clan.

 

Freedom of will had always been an illusion for the archer until he had left Hanamura for good all of those years ago. It was true of course, that many good memories were tied to his home village but, to be free he considered that leaving his birthplace was a small price to pay.

 

Then it occurred to Hanzo that at the same time, they were at the exact moment in which when Jesse believed he didn’t need the string to be happy for he had found the love of his life in Hanzo, not even realizing how deep their connection truly was. It was akin to reaching a point where both of their beliefs came to a match. It was middle ground.

 

For Hanzo believed that the string of fate was there to unite them, and Jesse firmly believed that he did not need it at all.

 

Back then, Hanzo had simply delved into the cloud of joy that he had felt at finding his soulmate, the archer was truly willing to be happy despite his father’s words, for at least a little while.

 

On that instant within their shared memories, as he once more stared at McCree, Hanzo knew he was also willing to do the exact same thing all over again.

 

He would be able to leave Jesse with something good to remember him by after he woke up from his coma and Hanzo didn’t. It was a worthy sacrifice from the elder Shimada’s point of view. He’d die for one of the few people that had ever mattered to him. The cowboy would move on, and Hanzo would fade away from his mind slowly, as time would simply pass by, he would end up becoming a fond memory, and then a distant thought.

 

Knowing that time was running out, the elder Shimada concluded that the dragons were right when they warned him that time was of utter importance and that he needed to do things right and swiftly if he wished for both of them to return safely, but that had never been the archer’s intention.

 

All along, he had planned to send Jesse back and for him to fade away along with the string. And he could feel it. Hanzo was able to sense how his strength was steadily declining due to the effort he was making to remain where he was in order to guide Jesse back into awakening.

 

He was all right with that happening nonetheless. So long as McCree was able to return safely back, then the archer was glad to die so that his soulmate could live. It was after all, a worthy sacrifice and one he was willing to do readily.

 

But for a brief time, he would indulge in these old memories and be happy, at least for a short while. Even thought that has always been his curse. He only has ever gotten a small taste of happiness and then it becomes as bitter as the bourbon that Jesse favors so much.

 

Hanzo accepted the hand that the cowboy was offering him with a smile and a nod.

 

Still, the archer wondered if Jesse was going to be able to discern what was a true memory and what was being done within the place they where currently in. Or if instead everything would be comparable to a passing dream. One that would fade into nothingness after the cowboy woke up.

 

“Stop thinkin’ so much sweetpea. I can hear the gears overworkin’ in that head of yours from here.” the cowboy joked.

 

“Ah, my apologies.”

 

“No need for any of that, darlin’.” the gunslinger’s tone was light as he gave a small squeeze to Hanzo’s hand. “Let’s go to the gardens.”

 

“Of course.” this was a world they both knew, for it had been just theirs back then despite the presence of the entire clan. They had made it work back then. Now they both readily walked hand in hand, the string glowing brightly between their entwined fingers.

 

* * *

 

_At first it had been doubt that had kept both of them apart. Even if the string was there, Hanzo was still doubtful and Jesse had been too persistent for the archer’s taste._

_Nonetheless, as the days passed by the archer relented and allowed himself to be near the cowboy for more than a mere session of practice with his bow. He knew the other man was loud and overly curious. His attire resembled that of an old cowboy from a Macaroni Western movie and yet, the Shimada heir did found some appeal in such a style of clothing._

_At least on the gunslinger the clothes were quite fitting, even if the archer considered the spurs to be a tad too much._

_On the fourth day, as Hanzo was sitting underneath a cherry blossom tree reading an old poetry book, he was approached by the American young man once more. How he managed to get past the guards was still a mystery to the Shimada heir._

_“Howdy.”_

_“How is it that you keep sneaking past the guards Mr. McCree?” the old book rested upon the lap of the young master, the yellowed pages gave away its antiquity._

_“A magician never gives away his tricks, darlin’.” the taller young man tipped his hat as a greeting then pointed to the ground, at the vacant space among the roots of the tree right beside the archer. “Mind if I sit down?”_

_“By all means, suit yourself.” Hanzo mentioned nonchalantly, even thought he was trying to ignore the pull that the string of fate gave him whenever the cowboy was nearby, he had often tried to appear not interested in anything in particular for he was more than aware that his father had people watching over him all the time._

_“Thank ya kindly.” the younger man proceeded to sit down, took off the Stetson and placed it over his left knee._

_Above them, the sky was a rich bright blue. The shade reminded Jesse of a field of cornflowers. The light from the mid-morning sun that filtered through the tree branches’ canopy was forming shapes over the grass, and some even on Hanzo’s hair as well. Those reminded Jesse of stars._

_It was strange to him to feel such a lure towards the cold and detached heir of the Shimada empire, but there was something in the long haired young man that kept on pulling him towards, like a moth to the flame. Jesse was more than glad to allow himself such liberties, for the archer somehow never actually sent him away or anything of the sort._

_The Shimada heir simply listened to whatever the cowboy wanted to say and then politely so, left the premises after excusing himself. Jesse had seen some hesitation upon those actions as well, as if it was difficult for him to leave McCree in order to do something else. As if he would rather stay with the younger man instead of going whenever he was supposed to._

_Jesse had also noticed that Hanzo often stared at his own left hand whenever he was nearby. The archer would often give a glance or two to his hand, flex his fingers or cradle the left hand with the right one. Was there something wrong with the Shimada’s heir hand? The gunslinger wanted to ask but couldn’t find a polite way to bring up such a topic._

_“I would have thought that in your case, you would be more comfortable sharing your time with my brother, Mr.McCree.” the book laid forgotten over the archer’s lap, a small bookmark could be seen resting between the pages of the old tome._

_The cowboy laughed a little at that statement. Somehow, he found it ironic that Hanzo’s quietness and aloft demeanor were what got his attention the most._

_“Now, hold on darlin’.” he looked directly at the Shimada’s heir face, “Why would ya even say that?”_

_“It is often assumed that Genji is the most sociable of us two. Most young guests go to him, as he is easier to get along with.” Hanzo explained with all the ease that a person would show after repeating the same sentence too many times. “They are not wrong though, as I find myself often too occupied with my duties to be of any use in social situations.”_

_“Well, if ya don’t mind I’d rather stay with ya.” the cowboy stared at the sky through the leaves of the cherry blossom tree, “Yer often quiet, and as noisy as I can be, I do like quiet.”_

_Then, there they were..._

 

_It was slow at first, but as the seconds passed by Jesse recognized them for what they were, Hanzo’s low leveled giggles. Those were followed by a series of chuckles and delved into peals of laughter. Jesse could not resist and he laughed along too._

_“It is not surprising thought. That you like quietness cowboy I mean.” the archer mentioned between the two of them as their mirth died down and was replaced by red faces, bright eyes and big smiles. “As noisy as those spurs of yours are, I find myself surprised that you are able to sneak around the guards as you do.”_

_“That’s a secret that will die with me, darlin’.”_

_They were both enveloped by a comfortable silence. Hanzo began to once more stare at his left hand and often so, he also stole glances at the cowboy’s right hand. Jesse, for his part simply enjoyed the quietness of the moment before speaking once again._

_“What were ya readin’?”_

_“An old poetry book.”_

_“Would ya mind readin’ some of those to me one day?” the question came out of the blue and the gunslinger could not stop himself from asking, he didn’t even consider the consequences of his words until they were out in the open._

_Truth to be told he had expected Hanzo to simply stand up and leave, for he was the heir of the Shimada clan and was probably expected to be doing something better with his time than to read poetry from an old book to silly American cowboys._

_As McCree braced himself for the rejection he closed his eyes, expecting to hear the archer’s retreating footsteps._

 

_Yet after some moments of complete silence Jesse heard the book being opened and stared at Hanzo while he was looking over the pages._

_“Of Course.” the archer had said, a rare smile upon his lips and then proceeded to read an old poem about stars and fireflies in a summer night._

_Jesse fell asleep while listening to the archer’s soft voice. His head lolled to the side and landed gently over Hanzo’s shoulder, the Shimada heir smiled and continued reading._

 

_Jesse dreamed of strings of green light made by fireflies and of Hanzo's smile under the light they made._

__

* * *

 

__

Of all the blessings that the assassin could had ever asked for, returning to a place such as the Shimada castle, even as if it was a memory in a situation as dire as the one that not only he but also Jesse were facing; was somehow something he would be always grateful for.

 

The cowboy had brought them over the gardens and they sat underneath a tree, still holding hands. The cherry blossom tree was in bloom, as were the rest of the trees within the grounds of the castle. The whole garden was filled with rose colored petals that fell slowly with the breeze, forming a curtain of bright pink that fell upon the ground.

 

The brightness of the sunlight made the petals glister even more.

 

“I had always wanted to see them cherry trees blossomin’.” the cowboy mentioned. It brought Hanzo’s mind back to better moments in their lives somehow. “Ya had mentioned them before too darlin’,” McCree nodded as he stared upwards, “but I never got to see ‘em like this, none of that. Only in pictures.”

 

“I see.” was the archer’s short response. What he didn’t brought up was the fact that he hadn’t seen the blossoms in a very long time as well, not since Genji had told him about Overwatch when he had been leaving offerings to a brother he believed to be long dead. How had Hanzo longed to see them once more, for spring had always been his favorite season.

 

“What do ya call that?” the gunslinger pointed to the light that passed through the branches, effectively bringing out the Shimada’s heir from his reverie.

 

“Komorebi.” the simple answer made Jesse wonder for a while because he had the feeling that he had heard that word before.

 

“Weird.”

 

“How so?” the Shimada heir inquired.

 

“I feel as if I have heard that word before, but I ain’t sure of it because this is my first time here.”

 

“Do you not feel as if something was missing?”

 

The cowboy tilted his head after hearing the question, his hat askew due to the movement. “What do ya mean by missin’?”

 

“There are no other people here but us.” Hanzo pointed out, “No guards, or servants. Do you not find it strange?” he asked once again.

 

“It has always been like that sweetheart, we are lords of this castle and we need none other people.” the cowboy reached over and grabbed a few petals in his hand and allowed them to fall over Hanzo’s long hair, “They suit you.” the cowboy said.

 

The archer wondered if in another life, if their lives had been different, would they had been able to share moments such as the one they where in?

 

It was probably his wishful thinking born out of desperation that made Hanzo wish for it to be so, still, if they had another chance these simple moments shared through their connection could have been real. But there was no chance for it to happen as things were. After all, this was all Hanzo had left to share with his cowboy. Even if their time was short, at least Jesse could live all of it through a dream.

 

“Penny for yer thoughts.”

 

The cowboy’s voice brought Hanzo out from his reverie.

 

“I apologize, I was lost within my mind.”

 

“That’s fine darlin’.”

 

Then, in a single fast move, Jesse had Hanzo pinned down over the bed made out of the fallen pink petals. The archer’s hair resembled a halo as it had spread over the ground among the rose colored blossoms. “Ya look good like this.”

 

“How so?” the archer questioned.

 

“Ya look like one of those princes from the old books, all pretty and crowned by flowers.” McCree’s breath ghosted over Hanzo’s ear.

 

The blossoms continued to fall as the cowboy kissed the archer slowly, the string of fate becoming brighter after each kiss that they shared.

 

* * *

 

__

_Often after his lessons, Hanzo would sit under a tree not only as an escape from the servants and his guards but also to avoid the heat of the season. Summer was often known to be merciless in Hanamura._

_As of late, the cowboy had taken it upon himself to join the Shimada heir on his usual spot under the cherry blossom tree that was on the far corner of the castle’s garden. Said tree was surrounded by a few wisteria vines and the koi pond was a few feet away from it. In the distance, a few cicadas sang along with some birds in a synchronized cacophony._

_“Howdy.” the usual greeting never failed to take the archer by surprise. Not because he hadn’t noticed the gunslinger making his way into the garden, but because his voice always made Hanzo’s heart beat faster._

_On the ground, the string of fate glowed brightly and the Shimada heir wondered when would it be time for McCree to see it as well._

_“Hello, Mr. McCree” Hanzo replied, his eyes fell once more upon McCree’s right hand and on the red string that was tied to it._

_“Shucks darlin’, I ain’t no mister and ya know it. Call me Jesse.” the usual tip of the hat that the cowboy usually did after greeting the archer was something that often caught Hanzo’s attention as well, for he found it strangely endearing._

_“Very well…” he paused, “Jesse.” the name rolled over his tongue with natural ease._

_“There ya go, that’s better ain’t it?”_

_“It is unusual to call a guest by their first name.” the archer retorted._

_“First time for everythin’.” Jesse added “Can I sit with ya?”_

_“As you have done so before, I do not see the need for you to ask anymore.”_

_“Well darlin’, it pays up to be polite.”_

_The cowboy took his time sitting down and taking off his Stetson and removing the red kerchief from his neck. The archer found the sight quite captivating, the dragons stirred under his skin urging him to touch the young man that was sitting beside him._

 

_“Ya know, I always see ya sittin’ here at the same hour everyday.” the gunner said out of the blue, “Is this like yer break time or somethin’?”_

_“It is indeed.”_

_“And all ya do is read in yer free time?”_

_The archer sighed after he heard the question, “Perhaps you would enjoy your time in here more if you were to share it with Genji. After all he is allowed more freedom than I.”_

_“I ain’t meanin’ no offense but, Genji ain’t the one I‘m interested in sharin’ my time with.”_

_“I do not see your point McCree.”_

_“What do I have to do to stop ya from callin’ me with honorifics and things like that?” the cowboy huffed, “I’m Jesse,” he paused and stared at Hanzo, a smirk formed on his lips. “Just Jesse.”_

_“Very well ‘just Jesse’.” the archer made quotation marks with his fingers, the whole set up made the gunslinger laugh. “I still do not understand what brings you here, but I do not think you should be spending your time with me. After all as part of Overwatch, should you not be assisting your team?”_

_“They got it covered sweetheart.” the small shrug that the cowboy made did not go unnoticed._

_“I do not think it is wise of you to be shrinking your duties.”_

_“Aw, come on darlin’. Don’t ya do that sometimes as well?”_

_“No.” was the blunt answer, “I would never avoid completing my duties.”_

_“And why is that?” the question came out of the blue._

_“You are asking too many questions.” the archer commented, a small amount of frustration filtered in his voice._

_“And ya ain’t givin’ any answers.” the cowboy singsonged, the childish demeanor irritated the Shimada heir even more._

_“I am expected to complete my duties, for it is the mark of a competent leader to be able to execute any tasks that they are given swiftly.” Hanzo’s words were leveled, as if to compete against the cowboy’s child-like behavior._

_“And when are you gonna give me the version that you didn’t memorize from a book?” Jesse inquired in a serious tone._

 

_“You would never be able to understand what it is envisioned for me in here.” Hanzo paused, his eyes were set upon the ground. “What it is expected of me in the future.”_

_“Then, help me understand.” was the low voiced reply._

_“I am unsure as to how to start.”_

_“The beginnin’ is usually a nice place for that, sweetheart.” the cowboy scooted closer to the side so that one of his knees was touching Hanzo’s. The shade of the tree along with the small bits of sunlight that filtered through the branches gave a sense of privacy to both young men. As if it was their own private bubble._

_“I…” the archer began, “I am expected to take upon my father’s place when he steps down from the leadership of the clan.” McCree simply nodded, as if he was prompting the archer to continue. “I am also expected to make the clan my main focus, I have been groomed since I was a very young child for such an endeavor.”_

_“I truly do not wish to continue in this path, at least not for the time being. For there is much I wish to see outside of this place, and away from the conflicts between the different clans in this venue.” the final words were spoken in a quiet tone, as if the Shimada heir hadn’t wanted to be overheard by anyone else but Jesse. “I feel trapped. Like a bird in a golden cage. The bars are pretty, but it is still a prison nonetheless.”_

_“So yer like me then.”_

_“How so?”_

_“I grew up in a gang, ya see.” the soft southern drawl made Hanzo feel at ease somehow, it seemed to be part of McCree’s charm, for the archer felt better just by having the cowboy nearby. “I was dealin’ with drugs before I learned how to read properly, I was shootin’ a gun before I managed how to tell the difference between a wild dog and a coyote.” the gunslinger laughed as if the last part was an inside joke of some sort. “My point bein’ that I was trapped too, ya know.”_

_The cowboy cleaned his throat before resuming his speech, “They were all the family I knew about. I wasn’t plannin’ on leavin’ them, ever.” the gunner smiled fondly, his eyes stared at the distance while Hanzo sat there in silence, waiting for McCree to continue his tale. “It was gonna be like that up until Reyes showed up and got lil’ ol’ me into Overwatch.”_

_“All I needed was a change of perspective.” he continued, “And here I am, all the way up in Japan.” the Shimada heir remained silent. “We are more than our pasts Hanzo. We can be anythin’ we want if we are willing to take a chance for it.”_

_The archer scoffed at the last sentence. “Some things can not be avoided, my obligation towards the clan is one of them, I am bound by it by bein-”_

_The kiss came out of nowhere, Jesse had simply moved quickly and locked his lips on Hanzo’s whilst effectively silencing the ramble that was coming from the Shimada’s heir mouth._

_“Better?”_

_The red that dusted over the archer’s face was enough of a giveaway._

_“I’ll take that as a yes then, darlin’.”_

_“Wh-why did you do that?”_

_“Well, ya didn’t seem to be breathin’ there so, yeah, I thought that could help.” the taller young man scratched the back of his neck. On that moment the archer noticed the bright red glow of the string as well as the red blush that was spreading over Jesse’s freckled face._

_“I understand.”_

_“So, ya ain’t mad?”_

_Hanzo focused for a while on the bright cerulean sky, then on the thread that was tied on both of their hands. They were both halves of a whole. Hanzo was not mad, he was merely disappointed by the fact that Jesse was still unable to see how deep their connection ran. He wondered though, if such an impulse had been caused by mere physical attraction or if it had been caused by the bond they both shared._

_After a long stretch of silence, the Shimada heir reached over for an old poetry book that he had been keeping nearby._

_“I have no reasons to be angry.” the archer smiled, his eyes were once more upon set over his left hand. The cowboy had repeatedly wondered what were the reasons for the Shimada heir to do that so often. “Would you like to hear some poetry?” Hanzo  offered._

_“Aw, shucks darlin’. Ya spoil me.”_

_Jesse could not help but to think, after they had shared a second kiss between verses of ancient poems that spoke about distant lands and exotic flowers of the far east, that Hanzo’s smile could rival the sun’s incandescence._

__

* * *

 

 

The archer had grown accustomed to the dark as he had been wandering through old memories and strange occurrences between the cowboy and he, and yet, the starry night sky as it was spreading over the whole space they where occupying, brought old emotions that were nearly forgotten back into the assassin’s mind.

 

Many conversations had been held by him and Jesse on the same place they both found themselves at on that moment. The cicadas sang along with the crickets and the fireflies flew among the well kept bushes that grew around the garden.

 

Not for the first time, Hanzo had wished for all that was happening not to be a mere made-up piece of reality. He wanted something tangible, but beggars can’t be choosers.

 

Jesse began to kiss Hanzo from his neck down to his chest, enjoying the rapid thumping at which the archer’s heart was beating. The Shimada heir took the cowboys’ face with both of his hands after the gunslinger had left a small red mark over Hanzo’s abdomen to ask a simple question.

 

“Are you happy?” his voice was low as he ran his fingers though Jesse’s hair evoking a pleased hum from the cowboy, for his part, McCree rested his head over Hanzo’s chest as the later continued the slow ministrations to the gunner’s head.

 

“’Course I am, darlin’. Why’re ya askin’?”

 

“I needed to hear you say it.” Hanzo lied, for he could not bring himself to tell Jesse the truth yet.

 

“I want to stay here forever.” the archer could not blame McCree for wanting that to be so, for these had been the happiest moments of their lives and no one could take those memories from either of them for they were precious and both would risk life and limb to keep them so. When they had nothing else but the clothes on their back, along with assassin’s and bounty hunters after their heads, memories such as those had kept them willing to go on living.

 

In that space they were both free, with no responsibilities or any of the urgencies of the real world.

 

Around them the fireflies gathered, their light bringing an enticing glow upon the lovers. Above them, the stars still shone and the cherry blossoms shed their bright colored petals over their bodies.

 

“Jesse I must t-” his words were stopped by the cowboy’s lips, “Ya can tell me later, sweetpea.” the gunslinger whispered as he adjusted their positions.

 

 

* * *

 

_After an unsavory conversation with his father, Hanzo had mentioned to Jesse the Tanabata Festival. The cowboy had promised to wait for the archer by the servants doors of the Shimada castle after sunset._

_As the dusk gave way to the early evening hours, the archer found himself walking through empty corridors, following the string of fate in order to arrive faster to wherever it was that Jesse was waiting for him. Soon enough he had found the gunner in the premises near one of the service doors that gave easy access to the back street. A good choice if one wished to go out undetected but a terrible one if they were to use it upon their return as well._

_Both young men were aware that they needed to find an alternate entrance upon their arrival later that night. But that could wait._

_Jesse, as usual, was wearing his cowboy attire. Plaid button-up shirt, jeans, boots with spurs and his Stetson. What seemed strange was that he was not wearing his red neckerchief. Hanzo for his part wore a traditional yukata donned in a deep blue fabric with a golden obi. The Shimada heir wore his hair down, the long inky strands resting loosely over his back._

_“Where is your red bandana?” the archer inquired, for it was strange not to see the piece of cloth tied to the taller young man’s neck._

_“I lost it darlin’, I looked everywhere for it and I ain’t got no idea where it went.” the cowboy’s tone was deflated._

_“I see. I can help you look for it when we return.” Hanzo offered, he knew how important that particular piece of cloth was for Jesse._

_“Nah, ya don’t need to do that.”_

_“But I want to.”_

_“All right, darlin’. If it makes ya happy then I ain’t gonna stop ya.” he received a short nod as a reply, “We should get goin’ though. Before someone sees us.”_

_“I agree.”_

_Both young men made their way out of the Shimada castle and into the dark streets, finally able to share a short kiss before making their way to the main road. Neither noticed that they were being followed._

_The busy streets welcomed them with a mix of music and lights along with the smell of food and numerous voices coming together._

_The bright multi-colored pieces of paper that carried the different wishes that people had written down, were hanging over from the bamboo branches. All of them from someone who wanted their wish to become true._

_“Do we get to write them wishes as well?” Jesse inquired, wonder clear on his face._

_“Of course.” then Hanzo proceeded to explain to the cowboy what was required and how it was done._

_“So, I write my wish and then hang it on a bamboo piece and it may become true?”_

_“Yes, that is the gist of it.”_

_“Let’s do that later then, I wanna see what’s there to offer around here.”_

_“Are you hungry?” Hanzo asked._

 

_As a response Jesse moved closer and whispered to the archer’s ear. “I’m famished.”_

_With a reddened face, the Shimada heir took McCree’s hand and guided him toward the food vendor’s stalls. A variety of sea food caught up Jesse’s attention. Both young men sat quietly and ate their meals in silence, the bright lights of the festival surrounded them._

_It came as a surprise when they found the old photo booth near a corner. A group of children ran by them chasing each other, their mothers not too far behind trying to keep the rambunctious group from wreaking havoc._

_“These are ancient.” the gunslinger pointed at the booth, “Let’s get a few pictures. Ya know, to remember this night.” he suggested lightheartedly._

_“Very well.” Hanzo’s mirth was difficult to hide, “I would like to see how we look together in those old photos.”_

_“We make a fine pair Hanzo, I’m tellin’ ya.”_

_They sat inside of the booth, unsure at first at to what to do with their facial expressions. Then they both spontaneously began to make silly faces at the camera. Hanzo with his tongue sticking out and his nose creased. For his part, Jesse had his eyes crossed and his mouth was hanging open. Those were the first two photos, after those were taken, laughter overcame both of them for a few minutes._

_“What of the other two remaining pictures?”_

_As they would both later find out, the other two turned out to be quite different from the previous ones._

_McCree ran his fingers though the archer’s inky locks and whispered, “Look at me, darlin’.” his voice was low and sweet. The third photograph featured the young men staring into each other’s eyes. Both with soft smiles. Jesse’s hand was resting upon Hanzo’s cheek._

_The last one was of them sharing a kiss. Neither intended for it to happen or for the kiss to be on the photo in the first place. Still, the tenderness of the moment had been captured within the old grayscale ink of the photograph._

_Each one of them took a copy, “For safekeeping.” Hanzo said._

_“Yeah, who knows what kind of water damage can these take before disintegratin’.” McCree added._

_The archer and the cowboy had decided to go on their separate ways for a short while. Hanzo in order to see what some of the stalls filled with handcrafted goods offered, and Jesse because he wanted to try a few games._

_In a small stall filled with colorful strips of fabric Jesse found a golden silk ribbon with patterns akin to those of dragon scales, the color was close to that of Hanzo’s obi. After purchasing it, the cowboy walked through the rows of people until he found the archer sitting beside an old bamboo bundle that was overflowing with the bright colored papers. The soft light around the area gave an ethereal glow to the archer, who was simply sitting down staring once more at his left hand._

_“Ya starin’ at the string?”_

_“What?”_

_“The string. I know ya can see ‘em. Genji told me.” Hanzo mumbled few choice curse words in his native tongue, “I told ya before that we don’t need them strings, we make our own fate.”_

_The archer glanced at McCree for a few seconds. “If only you knew.” he mumbled as he looked away._

_“What was that sweetheart?”_

_“I got you something.” Hanzo changed the topic swiftly and approached the taller young man, he then proceeded to tie the new piece of red cloth around the cowboy’s neck with ease._

_“Darlin’, ya shouldn’t have.” Jesse said after he noticed the new addition._

_“But I wanted to.”_

_“Well, thank ya kindly.” McCree gave Hanzo a small kiss on the forehead, “I got ya somethin’ as well.” he announced._

_“What is it?”_

_“Well, it’s a surprise sweetpea. Close yer eyes and lemme work my magic.” Shimada agreed readily, closed his eyes and almost immediately felt Jesse’s hands going over his hair. At the end of it, the archer was wearing a high ponytail tied with a golden silk ribbon._

_“Do ya like it?”_

_“Very much so. Thank you, Jesse .”_

_As the hour grew late the crowds thinned and so the archer announced that they should both write down their wishes before midnight._

_Jesse’s piece of paper was a simple blue and Hanzo’s was red. It was fitting to their situation somehow, both of them holding the other’s preferred color. With their wishes mixed with those of the rest of the people it was time to leave but Jesse stopped Hanzo before doing it so._

_“Here darlin’.” the cowboy announced ad he handed Hanzo another piece of paper, “That one’s for ya to read before ya go to bed.”_

_“Why cannot I read it now?”_

_“Because it’s a surprise.”_

_“Very well, I will comply. Now we must leave for the hour is late.” the archer added as he slid the paper into one of his pockets._

_The Shimada castle was quiet in the stillness of night. Most servants were sleeping as were most guards as well, still, it took the young men a good fifteen minutes to make their way back in. Before going on their separate ways in one of the corridors they shared one last kiss._

_“Good night, darlin’.”_

_“Good night, Jesse.”_

_Jesse made his way back to his place and Hanzo’s smile died slowly as he noticed his father standing near the door of his room, stoic expression replaced by that of rage and disappointment._

 

_“I see that once more you have disobeyed me.”_

_The archer stood silent waiting for his father’s final verdict._

_“He will be returning soon to his country and will forget about all of this, he will forget you and this dalliance of yours will finally end.” the elder Shimada raised his voice to make his point across, “Or else he will meet an unfortunate end.”_

_There it was. The final nail upon the coffin. Hanzo had no words as his father made his way back to his chambers, the paper Jesse had given the archer laid forgotten over the night table for three days before it was time for the gunslinger to leave._

_“I promise to find ya again darlin’. No matter what.”_

_The transport was about to depart, they had a sparse few minutes left to be together before the weeks they lived alongside each other became nothing more than a sweet set of memories._

_“I promise the same.”_

_They held onto each other as they shared one last kiss._

_Both young men refusing to open their eyes as the kiss ended in a sweet embrace._

_They brought their foreheads together, neither wishing to face the end, for the future was uncertain. Hanzo took the cowboy’s right hand in his left and stared at them, the string was there, glowing a steady red even when Jesse could not see it._

_“We will meet again,” the archer tried not only to assure himself but his cowboy as well, “when it is time.”_

_They would get their chance soon enough._

_Wouldn’t they?_

_“When we do darlin’, I promise to never let go of ya.”_

_Hanzo felt his heart flutter as those words left the cowboy’s mouth; the Shimada heir truly believed in such a thing as both of them coming together once more to never be parted again._

_“I will hold you to that promise, Jesse.”_

_“I’ve never broken a promise in my life.” the taller young man took the archer’s chin between his left index and thumb and gave a soft peck to Hanzo’s lips, “This one is more than that, is an oath. On behalf of both of us, my darlin’.”_

_Jesse’s right hand and Hanzo’s left were still entwined, the bright red glow of the string that tied them together gave the archer hope._

_“Did ya read the paper I gave ya?”_

_The archer’s answer was never heard by Jesse as they were interrupted by Commander Reyes' calm voice. “Sorry boys, cannot delay the departure any longer or Jack will have my head.”_

_“I understand.” the archer retorted, voice firm and unwavering; for he considered that the only person allowed to see him showing any sort of weakness was Jesse._

_Gabriel stared at both of them as they stood beside one another. He knew how hard it could be, he had lived through it. The uncertainty and anxiousness could drive a person to madness; and even if he had Jack waiting for him inside of the airship it didn’t mean he was unable to feel bad for Jesse. The young cowboy who never had much to his name had found a little piece of heaven in the Shimada heir._

_Reyes sighed as he made his way back into the airship mumbling a, “Five more minutes you two, I’ll distract Jack a while longer.”_

_“I’ll find you again, I promise.” the gunslinger murmured._

_The last kiss they shared was filled with grief and longing. Hanzo’s hair was tied with the golden ribbon, the silken piece of cloth was dancing along the long inky hair in the wind._

_“I love you.” the cowboy whispered as one tear began to slid down his face. The archer was quick to wipe it away with his thumb._

_“We will find each other Jesse, when it is time.” with a short nod and a last peck on the lips the gunslinger made his way into the airship. On that same moment Hanzo decided to open the bright blue piece of paper that the cowboy had given him the day they went to the summer festival._

_What the archer read made him shake with renewed grief, for if wishes written upon paper could become true, then the one he was holding onto would the sole wish he would want to see become real._

 

 

**_\                   I wish you could come with me.\_ **

**_\We could start a new life,_ ** **_just the two of us.\_ **

**_\                                                    I love you.  \_ **

_**** _

_The simple words in Jesse’s blocky handwriting caused the archer’s eyes to well up with tears, “If only it was that simple.” he murmured as the ship departed and he began to make his way back to the car, the piece of paper once more folded neatly and kept safe in one of his pockets._

 

 _Love was not enough to keep them together and the Shimada heir was well aware of that fact._ _Still, he desired for it to be possible. There was a reason for them to be tied by fate, but he was yet to see it._

 

_Was it an act of cruelty from the fates or were they both simply star crossed lovers?_

 

_Time would tell, but so far, his hope was waning. The string tied them together, but the world separated them._

 

_"Star crossed lovers indeed." he whispered._

 

_The sky was a cloudless expanse of bright azure with the sun shining brightly above; both were a great contrast to the inner feelings of the archer. For his heart was broken and though it was the midst of summer, he yearned for rain instead._


	8. Loss, Part I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I apologize for the delay on this chapter.  
> A big thank you for all the kudos and comments. Thanks for stopping by to read this story.  
> I hope the chapter is of your liking.

* * *

 

The Arcadian quietness that surrounded both men felt both surreal and grounding all at once. The fireflies that flew around the pond in the garden leaving behind wispy threads of light that faded in the darkness got Hanzo’s attention in more than one occasion. He found it eerie how this place was so detailed, as if Jesse and the thread considered that it was fundamental to relive their past to every last detail.

 

The cherry blossom petals still fell upon the ground. They resembled a curtain of soft colored buds.

 

In the quietness of the moment the archer stood up, for it was time for him to leave behind that place. Wasting time when he did not have much of it to spare had never been his intention to begin with. It was time for the Shimada heir to resume his endeavor, for it was clear that this part of Jesse’s soul desired to remain where it was and the archer had dallied enough already even though he was aware of that fact.

 

Hanzo approached towards the Koi pond slowly. The archer stared at his reflection noticing the lack of white hairs and the shine in his eyes that spoke of hope. Unknowingly so or perhaps knowingly, it seemed that was how Jesse remembered him. Young, hopeful and happy to an extent.

 

Hanzo had considered himself such a fool for believing that such a thing would last forever. That finding his soulmate was what he had needed to set things right in his life. If Jesse was to have any kind of remembrance as to what had happened while he was in a coma upon waking up, it would be then something that the gunslinger could keep as a good set of memories and if he didn’t, maybe there could be a possibility of the gunner simply reminiscing his happier memories and Hanzo was all right with that, as Jesse being happy was more than enough for the archer.

 

Even if Hanzo wouldn’t be _there_  to see it happen.

 

Behind him, McCree brought his arms around the archer’s waist.

 

“What are we looking at, darlin’?”

 

Hanzo was lost in his remembrance of better times but he was more than aware that he should be moving on, for squandering more time was unacceptable; as tarrying for too long could mean that the cowboy could be lost forever. He felt Jesse’s lips on the side of his neck, right underneath his ear. The light contact brought him out of his reverie as a shiver went down his spine.

 

“I need you to hear me out. Do not interrupt me until I am done. _Please_...” the archer said, his voice was merely a whisper.

 

“I hear ya.” Jesse agreed.

 

“I want you to know that our time now has come to an end of sorts.” he took a deep breath, what he was trying to convey was difficult for him to put into words. He had come to the conclusion that the thread, albeit still invisible to the gunslinger, was probably letting him know that his time was up. “I want you to remember all of this.”

 

“Darlin', why does this sound like a goodbye?” the fearful note in the cowboy’s voice did not go unnoticed.

 

“Jesse please, allow me to finish.”

 

There was silence coming from both ends. Ironically so, their first goodbye had been at the same age they were currently at as well, both had been young and enthusiasm ran wild within their hearts. Both young men believed that they could take on the world as long as they had each other. It seemed that heartbreak would always befall upon them whilst they were young indeed. As if they were fated never to be together for long. Such as the stories of old often depicted in their tales of star crossed lovers and their ephemeral love. Hanzo had believed more than once that their story was the same as those.

 

The curse of young lovers. Their love is often brass and with a tendency to end up abruptly for the conditions for a flourishing relationship are never present in such years, even if they are soulmates. Nurturing a bond takes the time, patience and dedication that the teenagers  often lack.

 

“Perhaps it is a farewell of sorts. But I want you to know that I cherish you, my darling one.” he took a deep breath, willing himself not to turn around and be further lost into Jesse’s arms. For what could be better than to fade into oblivion in his soulmate’s embrace?

 

Few things could compare.

 

And yet, the archer would not allow himself that, not on that moment. Instead, the Shimada heir set his eyes upon the string of fate on his hand and smiled bitterly.

 

_So much time wasted…_

 

“I want you to remember this…” he stated, “All of it, if you are able.” his voice seemed brittle, and it carried a certain amount of bitterness and doubt in its tone. As if the archer was not truly expecting McCree to be able to recall anything they had lived through so far. “All the times we shared together and, I hope that perhaps those memories will bring a smile upon your lips when you reach old age.”

 

“Darlin’…” the gunslinger’s tone was full of worry. “Hanzo, why are you tellin’ me this?” the cowboy felt distress crawling up his spine, his embrace became tighter as he pulled the archer even closer to him, as if that would stop Hanzo from going away. “You’re scarin’ me.”

 

“I want you to be happy.” the archer made a short pause, taking a deep breath before resuming his speech. “But if you forget all of this instead, even if my memory is erased from your heart and mind and it fades away like fog after the sun rises on the sky when you awaken from your slumber…” the Shimada’s heir shoulders slumped and he took in a ragged breath, his long hair covering the sides of his face.

 

“Then you should just move on. For this will be nothing more than a dream to you, and you will have forgotten it by the time your eyes have opened.” Hanzo could feel their time coming to an end, like sand sliding through his fingers. It felt as if the Fates were using the sharpest of razors to cut short not only their time together, but the string of fate as well.

 

Weren’t they deserving of another opportunity?

 

Would it be too much to ask for them to be able to see each other’s face upon awakening?

 

Hanzo saw that as an impossible feat.

 

For the archer firmly believed that men like him deserved nothing of the sort. Penance and regret would accompany him to the grave instead of unconditional love and happiness.

 

The strange part was that the archer was all right with such an arrangement, for he believed that he had done nothing to deserve otherwise.

 

Dying in order to bring back Jesse McCree would be his final and most selfless act, and the archer considered that it was less than Jesse deserved; for Hanzo had always considered that the cowboy deserved the Sun, the Moon and the Stars and he had been unable to give him neither of them. The archer hoped that his meager life could somehow suffice as a fitting sacrifice to bring back someone of such a great worth as Jesse was.

 

He had thought about apologizing for the longest time.

 

For not being good enough, for not being there when he was needed the most and for often seem unapproachable when that was further from the truth. He had wanted to give Jesse _everything_  he could but thought it wouldn’t have been well received. Not when they had found each other in the Watchpoint at Gibraltar and the cowboy had acted as if he had never seen Hanzo before.

 

At least with McCree being unconscious the gift that Hanzo was trying to give him would not be rejected for he wouldn’t find out that Hanzo’s life energy had faded away along with the bond in order to bring the gunslinger out of the coma until it was too late.

 

Hanzo smiled bitterly feeling his eyes sting for a short while. Crying was of no use anymore, for it was becoming late and the archer needed to continue his quest.

 

“I am sorry I was never good enough.”

 

The silence engulfed both of them after the archer finished the short sentence, the quietness covered the space they where inhabiting like a blanket of snow would coat the ground in the middle of winter.

 

“But you are enough. Always have been and always will.” the archer had no strength left to even argue anymore, he simply allowed the words to hang over the air by a thin invisible thread for they were probably empty platitudes said only to make him feel better for a short moment. Even as they had been said by his own soulmate, Hanzo would never believe them to be true, for he had never considered any of that to be true about himself to begin with, and the archer was more than sure that no one would ever think that of him either.

 

“Why don’t ya turn ‘round?” the gunslinger pleaded.

 

“Because I must leave.”

 

“I gave you a blue paper once, do you remember it?” even knowing he was to leave at any given moment, Hanzo remained in Jesse’s arms. At the end of the question the archer felt how McCree laid a feather light kiss over the crown of his head.

 

“I still have it. You simply handed it over and told me to read it later, but I never got the chance until it was too late; for I was unaware of the urgency of it.”

 

“Darlin’, the offer still stands.” the cowboy sighed, “I still want that. I still want ya with me. No matter if there’s a string or not tied to both of our hands.”

 

The archer nodded, “Of course.” he muttered. If only Jesse knew.

 

_If only..._

 

Hanzo has always been known for his insurmountable stubbornness, but one of the hardest things he had done in recent years was to let go of McCree’s embrace on that moment. Real or not, it had been the most comfortable and safe he had felt in a long time. The cowboy was warm and still smelled of gunpowder and hay along with the newly added smell of cigar smoke. The archer managed to keep his eyes upon a far away point instead of looking directly into the cowboy’s eyes after he had turned around and ended up taking a few steps back to establish a small amount of distance between them in order to avoid further contact lest he was tempted to remain for longer than he already had.

 

“I must leave.” he stated once more.

 

 _‘I am sorry.’_ Hanzo wanted to say out loud, but he couldn’t. The words died in his throat.

 

The light was dwindling, and with it Hanamura’s castle walls faded away as well. It was as if Jesse’s acceptance of the fact that Hanzo had to leave was causing the place to disappear at a faster rate. On the ground, the string remained. The red glow seemed more distracting than before as Hanzo avoided looking at the cowboy’s face. He tried no to think on the disappointed expression that the gunslinger was probably featuring on that moment. The archer dared not to think that there could be anger in it as well.

 

To be fair, Hanzo had been expecting anger. He would take Jesse’s rage over his disappointment any day, for the archer could face an enraged person at any given moment, but Hanzo considers he had brought enough discontent upon many a person and that McCree should be spared from that. From being let down one more time by his own soulmate. Even if it was for his own good.

 

 _‘He truly deserves better.’_  the archer thought. Perhaps after all was said and done, Jesse would finally be able to find happiness without it being dampered by circumstances such as the ones they were currently facing.

 

“Darlin’,” the gunslinger began, “I know I’ll be seein’ ya again soon. But I’ll miss you all the same.” a frail smile that did not reach his eyes was present on his lips, his voice seemed to carry a slight tremble and a doubtful note. As if he was expecting the archer to leave and never return. The gunslinger didn’t try to reach for the Shimada heir. He didn’t even attempt to talk Hanzo out of it as he usually did so. Jesse simply stood there, his beaten up Stetson was then held to his chest and a small fragile smile adorned his face. _“Bang. Bang. My baby shot me down.”_ he sang that part of the old song in a low trembling voice.

 

There it was again. Once more Hanzo was hurting someone he held dear. The archer had considered quite often how he had never done anything more than to affect the lives of those he cared for quite negatively. But in order for the cowboy to find true happiness he had to go through that. Jesse would wake up and forget all of that had happened, Hanzo was sure of it, and yet he _doubted_. For he was more than sure that in trying to show compassion, human beings were often seen as cruel and heartless; for in doing what was considered good for others would usually result in either tears or rage. On that moment the archer was sure he was seen by McCree as a heartless and emotionless puppet.

 

Just as the clan had always wanted him to be. Just like what he had been raised to be as.

 

_Emotionless._

 

“Jesse,” the archer called. Slowly so, the cowboy lifted his head and stared at Hanzo. The short distance between them seemed to be a gigantic chasm instead of mere feet.

 

“Yeah?” he mumbled in response.

 

“Smile… _please._ ” it was a simple request, and yet the archer could not finish it.

 

 _ _‘_ For I want to see you as happy as you have always made me feel.’ _that part was left unsaid. Within Hanzo’s head, the turmoil prevented him from voicing his thoughts any further.

 

The answer to his plea had been a nod and a short lived lift of the gunner’s lips.

 

 _‘Jesse truly deserves better.’_  Hanzo thought once more. The cherry blossom trees began to disappear, fading away as if they had been a mirage upon the desert sands. The koi pond was gone by the time Hanzo had realized that the only thing left was a rapidly disappearing fistful of pink petals on the ground. McCree was gone as well, in his place there was only the string of fate that was once more pointing towards his next destination.

 

While standing in the shadows, Hanzo took in a deep breath. Just how many times was he going to end up doing the same? Always hurting and always leaving or being left behind.

 

He was just _tired._

 

He was fed up with how everything always turned out to be __so wrong__. More than once the archer had wished to be completely emotionless. Unable to ever hurt those who did not deserve it.

 

The archer resumed his quest by taking the direction in which the thread pointed at. Slow at first, but with a determined stride. The silence engulfed him, the darkness had become somehow unnerving. Almost as much as the strange sensation that there were eyes set upon him, yet Hanzo continued walking, for if he was to delay any further there could be unsavory consequences.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

It was never easy to see the transition from utter shadows to bright light when he had been following the low glowing light of the string of fate for such a long time. His eyes felt gritty, as if sandpaper had been rubbed over them. The archer could not help but to cover  part of his upper face with one of his hands as the sudden source of luminescence had hit him straight on the face.

 

“You’re not supposed to be here.”

 

The southern drawl that he was so familiar with seemed off somehow.

 

“Jesse?”

 

“Darlin’, now’s not a good time.”

 

The first thing that Hanzo noticed was the cowboy’s attire. It was all black. The red neckerchief, the old Stetson and the dusty and nearly thread-bare jeans were all gone. Instead, Jesse’s clothing was mostly composed of leather and metal. The Blackwatch logo on the left sleeve allowed the archer to deduce which part of McCree’s past that was.

 

Hanzo noticed the tattoo as well as the muscles. The cowboy had grown even taller and the muscular mass he had developed made him look so different, that for a short moment the archer could not really tell who he had laid eyes upon.

 

Then there were the eyes. Those brown orbs that used to be filled with hope and happiness, those eyes that had once shined with the light of the stars, were then and there empty and devoid of emotion. There were bags under them as well as black circles. The haunted look upon the cowboy’s face worried the archer.

 

“Look,” McCree huffed, he seemed exhausted. “Ya truly shouldn’t be here. Not that I’m not happy to see ya but, ya shouldn’t be seein’ any of this.”

 

That was when the Shimada heir took a look around him and noticed that of all the places they could have been, they had ended up in a torture room. It was easy to tell the place apart, for Hanzo had seen more than his share of similar set-ups for torture chambers.

 

“Were you torturing someone?” the question, albeit obvious ended up sounding more similar to an statement.

 

“Just doin’ my job.” whatever his _‘job’_ entailed, the gunslinger did not spoke of it any further.

 

The Shimada heir took then a look around. The silence within the room seemed to engulf everything.

 

“How did ya end up in here anyway?” the question came out of nowhere and Hanzo took his time to answer it. Knowing that this Jesse was probably more than aware of what the archer had done to Genji seeing as he was in Blackwatch as well, and that his younger sibling was probably good friends with the cowboy; the archer hesitated to answer.

 

Would this Jesse feel hatred towards him despite the fact that they were soulmates?

 

To be honest, Hanzo expected it so. It was no less than what he deserved.

 

What could had gone through McCree’s head when he found out who left Genji in such a state? Completely mutilated and nearly dead.

 

The Shimada heir dared not to bring it up for he could see it in the gunslinger’s eyes. The reproach and the hatred towards him all mingled there, in Jesse’s eyes as he laid them upon Hanzo.

 

Thing was that it did not occur the archer that such emotions were probably not aimed at him in the first place. And yet, that was what he had come to expect, for those were often the emotional responses he had received from most people in recent years, if not most of his life.

 

“I was looking for you, as you may have noticed.” the archer lifted his head, a stony expression set over his face as he then resembled a marble statue. He refused to let Jesse know that his own doubts and self-hatred were consuming him slowly right on that moment more than ever before. Knowing what he had done and that the cowboy had been aware of it raised more than one set of alarms within the archer’s head, for he knew that on that moment all he probably had was Jesse’s hatred aimed towards him and nothing more.

 

Or so the archer assumed as he braced himself for rejection.

 

“Well, ya found me.” he said with a hint of vitriol in his voice. The half-smoked cigar was hanging from the side of McCree’s mouth. “Now, ya can leave this place.”

 

Before making any sort of questions, Shimada decided to address his most obvious concern, for it was better to get such a question out of the way.

 

“Do you hate me?”

 

“WHAT!?”

 

The harsh voice tone took Hanzo by surprise before the gunslinger was able to take back his words, he allowed a sigh to escape from between his lips. “I’m sorry pumpkin,” the frustration was clear in his mannerism. “It’s been a long day, that’s all.” the short pause gave Jesse enough time to compose himself.

 

“I don’t hate ya darlin’. Never have, and never will.”

 

“Then please tell me, what is going so badly for you to be this frustrated?” Shimada inquired. The space they where inhabiting seemed to shrink the longer they where in it.

 

“Everythin’ __is__ wrong.” the cowboy took his hat off his head and threw it upon the concrete floor. “Everythin’ is fallin’ apart, even my family.” he hissed, “Specially _my_ family.”

 

Hanzo took that moment to notice how his own clothing resembled that old traditional set he wore when he ran away from Hanamura. Dark colors that were perfect to blend in with the dark alleys he often took in order to avoid large crowds. His hair was still long; the inky strands were tied into a low ponytail with the golden ribbon that Jesse had gifted him at the summer festival.

 

The archer took a seat on the floor near a corner and patted the dusty space beside him. “Sit, please.” the archer said. “And talk, for I will listen to anything you may have to say.”

 

The ethereal glow of the string flared up into a blinding red for a few sparse seconds, but that small action brought a slight smile upon Hanzo’s lips. For his part the cowboy sat down right beside the archer, their legs touching and when Jesse held Hanzo’s left hand, the archer dared not to question him any further, he simply awaited for the gunslinger to being his explanation.

 

“Things are crumblin’ down in here darlin’.” the gunslinger sighed once more. “Everyone’s leavin’. Gabe’s been weirder and more secretive than normal lately. Ana’s dead, they want to shut down Overwatch and Jack…” the cowboy gulped, “I don’t even know what to think anymore. I just wanna leave this place and never look back. ‘Cause I know there’s nothing I can do to stop anything from happenin’.” there was hesitation in his tone. “But they’re my family still. And family don’t go leavin’ each other.”

 

“Circumstances may force you to do so.” the archer said. “For sometimes leaving tends to be our only choice. On other instances our time may simply be up, and we must leave on our own accord.” Hanzo was surprised by one thing, and that was the fact that when he mentioned that sometimes one needed to leave their family behind, the cowboy did not brought Genji or the clan up to the conversation.

 

“Sometimes we do not have a choice at all, Jesse.” the archer added with a tone of finality. “Either way, one needs to move on to avoid being absorbed further into such conflict altogether.”

 

“Yeah, I know…” the gunslinger nodded. After a beat of silence he added, “Genji’s gone, ya know?”

 

“How so?”

 

“He said he needed to find his peace somewhere else, so he left Blackwatch.”

 

“I… see.”

 

“I don’t blame ya.”

 

It was more than clear as to what McCree just had referred a mere moment ago.

 

“You should.”

 

“But I don’t. ‘Cause for one, I wasn’t there so I have no idea of what and why it happened only of the outcome, and two,” he paused to take the cigar off his mouth, “I repeated to myself over and over that I needed to hear it from ya. Yer brother is filled with rage, I saw him tear apart more than one man in the battlefield after they reconstructed him. He has his reasons for bein’ such a little rage ball but now I want to hear yours for bein’ as sad as you are.”

 

“I am not s-”

 

“Darlin’, pumpkin, sweetpea… _please _.__ ” the cowboy cleared his throat before continuing, “I can tell how ya feel, I can see it in yer eyes. Please, just tell me. If ya were tryin’ to help me merely minutes ago, then let me help ya as well.”

 

“That would serve no purpose, for what is done can not be undone.”

 

“Ya got to forgive yerself, you know?”

 

‘”I d-” the archer found himself unable to finish the sentence as the gunslinger had other plans, by interrupting him once more before he even dared to continue with his argument.

 

“Sweetpea, listen to me, please.” the gunner’s hand squeezed Hanzo’s for a short moment. The harsh neon-like light that was hanging over them dimmed considerably, allowing both of them a more comfortable setting, even though both men were sitting upon the concrete floor the fact that the overly-bright light had dwindled helped by a small amount. “As ya said, circumstances may force one’s hand.” he quoted the archer, “I believe ya had enough punishment as it is, self-inflicted by isolatin’ yerself or worse. And the idea of you being harmed or lonely wallowing in despair with no one to go to, it appeals t’me _none_  my darlin’.”

 

Hanzo couldn’t bring himself to talk as he felt Jesse slide closer to him, “These are dark times darlin’,” the gunner spoke softly as he laid a hand over the archer’s waist. “we’ve got to hold onto the few sparks o’ light we may find on the way.” Jesse managed to sit Hanzo on his lap with a single movement.

 

“Just like we held fireflies in our hands back in Hanamura and made wishes under the veil of the night.” Hanzo added as he laid his head over McCree’s shoulder. Those memories of both of them, surrounded by the jade colored strings of light that the small bugs created as they flew around in the dark of the gardens in the Shimada estate were some of Hanzo’s favorites.

 

“Just like that my darlin’.” the gunner laid a kiss over Hanzo’s temple, a small smile on his lips as he reminisced those long gone days of summer. “Like when a few of them landed on yer head and ya looked like the crowned prince ya were always meant to be. All regal and bathed in light.”

 

Jesse’s voice began to seem distant and his body warmth began to slowly fade away.

 

“I guess I’ll be seein’ ya soon, pumpkin.” that was the last thing the cowboy said before Hanzo realized that he was once more sitting in the dark completely alone, with the string of fate as his only company. For a short while the archer refused to move for even if he knew that he had to continue following the string there was still a sense of loss within him. Jesse had been as lonely and desperate as the archer himself had been after he ran away from the clan. The cowboy, on the last days of Overwatch had been in the brink of a nervous breakdown. He had been trying to appear strong even though everything he held dear was collapsing around him.

 

Hanzo pondered in the dark for what seemed hours to him, until he slowly realized that there, behind him were the distinct notes of a guitar being played. And a voice he was more than familiar with was singing a song about loss and hope at the same time. The song mentioned a family departing one by one as the singer wondered if they were going to ever be together again.

 

Gradually so, the light returned again and without even moving from where he was sitting at Hanzo felt the as the ground shook as the unmistakable set of noises that were usually made by trains reached his ears. The Shimada’s heir blinked owlishly as around him instead of engulfing shadows, a cargo cart began to take shape. Piles of luggage and metal walls had surrounded him completely in just a few moments.  

 

“Glad to have ya here with me, darlin’.” the gunner said as he laid his acoustic guitar atop of a suitcase. Afterwards, the archer felt a piece of cloth being lain over his shoulders. The rich red from the soft wool carried Jesse’s scent and Hanzo relished in it.

 

“Where are you going?” the Shimada heir inquired, for it was strange for him not to have to walk in order to find the next set of memories that the string deemed important for him to see.

 

“Deadlock Gorge. Gotta repay some debts in there.” the gunner’s tone seemed off. As if there was more than that to it. Hanzo decided not to inquire any further for he had better questions for McCree to answer as it seemed like he was going to be held within the cargo bay of that train for a long while.

 

Somehow Hanzo felt as if things weren’t going to end well in the gorge. But unfortunately so, that was where the thread was sending him. Whatever it was that he would be seeing there was not going to be pleasant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs that are mentioned in this chapter are:  
> Bang! Bang! (My Baby Shot me Down) by Nancy Sinatra  
> Will the Circle Be Unbroken (full acoustic version) from the Bioshock Infinite OST
> 
> Thank you for reading!


	9. Loss, Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I say this in every chapter but thank you so much for all the comments and kudos! You keep me inspired to continue writing!
> 
> Warnings: There's mention of blood in this chapter. (nothing too graphic but I thought that it should be mentioned just in case.)  
> (I apologize in case of any misspelling or any grammatical errors that you may find.)

* * *

 

In the sparse light that managed to filter itself into the moving cart the archer was able to distinguish the several changes that McCree had gone through. Hanzo was unable to tell the exact date but, by the rugged appearance and the gruffer beard it was more than evident that the cowboy had been on the run for perhaps months or maybe a year or even longer. The rest of the evidence being the loss of weight and muscle mass as well as the unkempt clothing.

 

“Do you have anythin’ I could drink?”

 

“No, I do not.”

 

“That’s a shame, darlin’.” the gunner announced as he tired to get more comfortable on the far away corner he had chosen to sit at. “Could use a few sips myself.”

 

The background noises from the train grew louder as both men fell into a silent spell. The archer still burrowed among the red fabric of the serape and McCree lost in thought.

 

“Why Deadlock gorge?”

 

“Told ya I have some debts to repay there.” was the simple answer and yet it seemed to be lacking.

 

“What are you not telling me?” Hanzo considered that it would be wiser not to ask but it would also be foolish not to.

 

“Darlin’, the less you know, the better.”

 

Knowing that there would be no point to keep on asking, the Shimada heir dropped the topic for if there was something that he and McCree had in common; it was that they both were incredibly stubborn.

 

“I still want somethin’ to drink though.” the small shrug that accompanied the confession made the archer laugh. The short lived mirth reminded both men of better times.

 

“Of course you would, cowboy.” the archer said after his laughter died out. An air of melancholy filled the space they inhabited instead.

 

“You know me too well, pumpkin.”

 

“I do not believe that I know you well enough, but I would like to.”

 

“Well if ya want to know me better, then you can ask me some questions. We have plenty o’ time to burn anyway.”

 

“I confess that I do desire to make such inquires but, I would just rather listen to you talk.” the archer gave Jesse a small smile, “I like to listen to your voice. I find it soothing.” not only that but Hanzo could tell that the part of Jesse that he was facing was carrying too much weight within his heart and mind. He saw the guilt in the cowboy’s eyes as well as the sadness and the sense of defeat, for the archer himself had been dragged down more than once by such feelings as well.

 

There, in the cold and shadowed space of the cargo train cart both men stared at each other. The silence once more took over before Hanzo took action. The archer stood up and maneuvered around the small piles of luggage and in a few moments he was sitting once more on McCree’s lap. Hanzo opened the serape and covered both of their upper bodies with the soft fabric, making sure that both of the gunslinger arms were inside of their impromptu nest. Although there hadn’t been any need for it, as Jesse’s automatic response had been to wrap his arms around Hanzo’s waist as soon as the archer sat on top of his tights.

 

“It is rather cold in here.” Hanzo whispered, as if by speaking any louder the moment would lose its magic. The archer then laid his head under Jesse’s chin and closed his eyes as he awaited patiently for the moment in which the gunner would begin to talk.

 

“I missed ya somethin’ fierce, darlin’.” Jesse’s voice carried a hint of sadness. “I missed your smile and your hair. Even though you cut it short, it still looks mighty pretty.”

 

Hanzo hummed in response, not really wishing to interrupt the cowboy.

 

“After I left Blackwatch… ” he took a deep breath to center himself. “The explosion at the Zurich HQ happened just a few weeks after I walked out… it all went down from there. Gabriel and Jack died in it and so did most of the people I used to work with.” the gunslinger remained silent for a while longer before resuming his speech. “Though, I still believe there must have been something I could’ve done to help. But now that’s just another regret I’ll be carryin’ to my grave.”

 

“That was almost two years ago and,” Jesse sighed, exhaustion and weariness were taking a toll on him. “then I became an outlaw. Even got a bounty over my head and all that, because now I try to do justice by my own means.”

 

“And that is why you are going to the gorge?” the archer interrupted.

 

“Yeah, pretty much.” the cowboy gave a small shrug, careful as not to dislodge the archer’s head from where it rested. “I just jump from one train to the other until I reach whatever place I think its best, then just keep my head down and try to do good.”

 

It seemed that even though both of them were wanderers who drifted along the roads of life looking for opportunities not only to atone for their past actions but also to forget about their previous lives, they would always look for something more. There was a part of Jesse that was yearning for things long gone, a part that wanted to belong and yet it couldn’t. For in the eyes of society he was deemed a criminal.

 

They were both homeless.

 

Sometimes being homeless is not only the absence of a roof over one’s head but the absence of people in one’s life as well. Jesse had always been rather lonely for he could not see the string unlike the archer. And any people he let into his life usually left, that was why he became fairly detached with most folk, for he expected them to simply vanish from his life.

 

At least Hanzo had the small comfort that the ability to see the thread provided him, the dragons were not only his guardians but his friends as well. But still, Jesse and Hanzo were the same nonetheless. Their lives always lacking something that they could not pinpoint, and perhaps that was why the fates deemed them fit to be together, for they had found a home in each other when they had nothing else. Unfortunate souls always had the tendency to gravitate toward each other.

 

In the quiet moment that they both shared they found a small oasis of peace. Jesse tightened his grip around Hanzo, and the archer did the same.

 

“Remember when I told ya that when I found you again I was never gonna let you go?” McCree whispered over the Shimada heir’s temple.

 

“I do remember.” Shimada replied, he had been feeling slightly drowsy and as such allowed his eyes a few moments of rest, for he felt safe in the cowboy’s embrace. What he could not immediately recall was that those had been words told to him by McCree the day they had parted ways in Hanamura. The last time they had been together before Jesse boarded the ship.

 

Hanzo did not notice that Jesse was not re-enacting an old memory but actually conveying his old words into action.

 

“I’ve been tryin’ to keep good to that promise.”

 

“Wha-” the archer could not finish his question for instead of the tranquil dark space that was usually illuminated by the glow of the string Hanzo was once more thrown in the middle of a memory without as much as a warning. There were bullets coming out of nowhere, and the archer had appeared in the middle of a sudden conflict surrounded by old derelict buildings and drying bushes, the projectiles ricocheting against the hard surfaces.

 

Jesse limped towards Hanzo, a terrified expression marring his face and blood pouring out of what was left of his arm and several other wounds. The whole sinistral appendage lost from the elbow down. The red neckerchief he usually carried on his person was being used as a tourniquet and the Stetson was missing.

 

The archer was witnessing one of the most painful moments in the life of the cowboy. 

 

“Ya gotta go darlin’.” the gunslinger’s voice carried an alarmed tone and a layer of sweat covered his forehead.

 

“Jesse wh-”

 

“No. No. No. Ya gotta _leave_ or they’ll get t’ya as well and I can’t let ‘em do that.” the taller man swayed to the side as a dizzy spell made him close his eyes.

 

“Who is coming Jesse?” the archer questioned, an eery sense of calmness overtook him.

 

“Deadlock.” he paused to take in a ragged breath. “They said they were gonna get t’ya as well and I ain’t lettin’ that happen.”

 

“I will be fine.” Hanzo countered as he approached McCree with his arms raised, ready to catch the cowboy in case he fainted.

 

The archer kept on repeating in his mind that it was _not_ real…

 

None of it was real, even if it felt like it.

 

He needed to remain calm, for nothing would be gained from giving way to despair.

 

“No, you will not. You’re a single man and they are dozens. They’ll do anything to take ya from me.” the arm kept on gushing blood, the piece of cloth that was covering it was unable to stop the appendage from bleeding out. “I don’t want that to happen, you’re all I have left.” the cowboy whispered as he covered what was left of his left arm with his right hand, a loud gasp made its way out of his mouth.

 

“It will be all right.”

 

“No. No. _No_.” he hissed as pain took a hold on him. His sun kissed skin turned to a deathly pallor, “They’re not goin’ to take you from me. They can have the arm or both arms if they want but not you. _Never you_. They took you once from me, but not again.”

 

“Jesse, You must calm down. No one’s taking me from you.” McCree had always been laid back for as long as Hanzo had known him. The cowboy was usually prone to take things easy and to remain calm and collected for there was no sense in rushing except that on that moment, even if it was not real, the prospect of Hanzo coming to harm because of him made the cowboy panic. The archer was equal parts angry with himself because he was the reason for Jesse to be scared and humbled, for no one before had ever shown such concern for his well being as much as Jesse had done so in just a mere handful of minutes.

 

“That ain’t happenin’ darlin’.” the last syllables were slurred, a result of the dizziness caused by the massive blood loss. “You’re my sunshine and without ya there’s just the dark left and I ain’t fond of it. It’s cold without you, like in winter when the sun’s hidin’.”

 

The cowboy fell to his knees, collapsing weakened by the loss of blood and so did Hanzo who cushioned Jesse’s body with his own in order to stop the gunner from getting hurt any further. The archer kept on repeating to himself over and over how none of what was happening was real. Not anymore. Shimada could not help but to think back and see Jesse holding onto the side of his chest as he bled out on the floor of that abandoned building on that fateful mission that spiraled the current journey that he was in.

 

“’S not really worth to continue without ya. You’re all I’ve ever truly had.” McCree nodded, “Don’t need them strings to tell me that. I just know it.”

 

How could the cowboy be so sure of _that_?

 

Due to either nervousness or anger the archer was trembling, all he could think about was the fact that it was happening all over again. Once more Hanzo had been powerless to prevent the cowboy from getting hurt.

 

McCree was wounded gravelly; once again bleeding out and Hanzo could not stop it from happening.

 

“I am here now Jesse.” Shimada held the cowboy closer as he tried to convey all he could not say out loud with that single embrace.

 

The gunslinger nodded in acceptance, “I’m glad yer here, makes everythin’ a lil’ bit better if I get to see yer pretty face.”

 

Hanzo smiled weakly, “Of course.”

 

The archer then carried Jesse over his back as he desperately looked over the land that surrounded them. Rusty red soil and rocks as far as his eyes could see, but there not too far away was a cave. As fast as his legs could carry both his weight and the cowboy’s, the Shimada heir made his way into the small space within the rocks at the base of a small hill. The entrance had a few bushes growing around it, varying in colour from yellowish-brown to dark green.

 

The archer laid McCree gently upon the dusty ground then proceeded to check on the various wounds that marred the cowboy’s body, finding that there was nothing he could do but to avoid aggravating the arm injury any further, Shimada placed his back against one of the cave walls with Jesse cradled between his legs, the cowboy’s head rested atop of the archer’s chest. Hanzo then took off the serape that the gunslinger had given him when they were on the train and laid it over both of them. The archer concluded that if he could not provide healing perhaps he could provide his soulmate with some warmth and comfort. It wouldn't be enough but he hoped that at least that would help Jesse for a short while.

 

Shimada hoped against all odds that the current segment of memories would not last for too long, for he could not bear to see his cowboy suffer any longer.

 

“Would you like to hear a story?” the archer whispered as he accommodated Jesse’s body to a better position. The serape was stained with a copious amount of blood that made the rich red a few shades darker on some parts. It scared Hanzo, even though he was used to the sight of gore, this was his soulmate’s blood that was coating his hands as well as the soil. Even if Jesse had survived all of that ordeal on his own, it was still a frightening thought to have his cowboy bleeding to near death in his arms for a second time.

 

“Ah, sure thing my darlin’.” Jesse chuckled but the short lived mirth turned into a small grunt. “Y’know I love yer voice.”

 

“I see. I am flattered to hear that.” Hanzo muttered as he ran his fingers through the gunner’s hair, Jesse closed his eyes and tried to overcome the pain by focusing on the Shimada’s heir voice. “I shall endeavor to do it more often, then.”

 

“Please do, pumpkin.” he smiled weakly, “Yer voice’s like a calming balm to this ol’ cowboy’s soul.”

 

“Flatterer.”

 

“It's the truth.” the gunner retorted.

 

“For being someone who is hurt and bleeding copiously, you seem rather cheerful.” The archer silenced McCree with a short peck to the lips, which ended up with the cowboy smiling brightly. “If that’s what I get for talkin’ too much, then I’ll do that more often.”

 

“Please Jesse, just be quiet and allow me to begin with the story.”

 

“All right. I hear ya, pumpkin.”

 

The archer smiled at the pet name. He was truly fond of each and every one of those names that Jesse often used on him. At least on these memories, for he hadn't heard any of them ever since Jesse left Hanamura for good all of those years ago. The archer was determined to enjoy that for as long as his search would last, for he knew that this was his last chance.

 

“This is the story of two dragons that once fought over the land…”

 

Time lost its meaning and Hanzo’s voice echoed within the small space they were occupying. The archer’s heartbeat along with his voice lulled McCree into a half-asleep state. The temperature inside of the cave began to drop gradually as it did the amount of light that could be perceived from the entrance.

 

As darkness engulfed both of them, the cowboy whispered, “See ya real soon darlin’?” and offered a weak smile meant to comfort Hanzo. As Jesse caressed the archers face, Hanzo reached over and covered the cowboy’s hand with his own for a moment and gave McCree a weak smile in return.

 

“I believe so.” Shimada replied.

 

A moment later, Hanzo began tracing the cowboy’s ashen face with the fingers of his free hand.

 

How is it that he was aware that none of what is happening on that moment should be real and it still it broke his heart nonetheless, for the pain of heartbreak had become ever present in his life. Seeing Jesse in a weakened state once more brought back terrible memories of things that he so wished had never come to pass.

 

He felt how the memory began to slip away and McCree started to fade along with it, and yet the archer tried to keep the cowboy in his embrace. “Don’t leave.” he pleaded as he tightened his arms around Jesse as he was vanishing, “Not yet.”

 

“I’ll be seein’ you when I wake up darlin’.” McCree promised, offering one last smile to Hanzo, who in return kissed the gunner’s forehead before he disappeared completely. The archer then screamed, for he could not fathom such cruelty from the Fates. It was as if he was destined to encounter the cowboy over and over but their time with one another would always be cut short; as if they were fated to be linked by the string but never brought together by it for long.

 

Love was as ephemeral as snow in summer. Rare and destined to fade away in the blink of an eye.

 

As the darkness fell like a veil all around him, Shimada realized how close he had come to losing Jesse back then and he hadn’t even been there in real life, he just got to see part of it in a memory, where everything was already said and done and there was nothing else for him to do than to witness how the cowboy lost his arm once again. The Shimada heir felt a pang in his chest, he felt useless, for he could only stand still and offer a few words of comfort that were probably not accomplishing anything.

 

He felt useless.

 

Simply _useless_.

 

In the short lived moment in which the shadows covered the place he felt as if Jesse’s blood was still coating his hands. The uncomfortable feeling made his skin crawl. Upon the darkened ground the string glowed brightly, as if it was mocking Hanzo.

 

The gunslinger had faced the loss of his arm all on his own and Shimada would never forgive himself for that. Even if he was not at fault he felt as if he had _failed_ his soulmate somehow, for no one should be all alone in such a trying time. He felt responsible, mostly because he had always been aware of their bond and yet did nothing to let McCree know about it.

 

Would it had been so bad to tell the gunslinger of the connection they both shared?

 

Would any of the events that Hanzo had witnessed so far had a different outcome?

 

So many questions and yet so little time to find the answers for them.

 

Lost in his musings the archer began to feel himself growing weak once more. It had been gradually increasing. At first he could ignore it, but as he had been reaching more present times in the memories he had been visiting, the strain became more palpable. That was why the transitions had been becoming faster. That was why instead of walking in the dark following the glow of the string he had simply appeared in the train and the same reason as to why he had been feeling slightly drowsy.

 

The energy drain was so big that there was not much time left. Hanzo concluded that that was the reason why the string was just taking him to the places he was supposed to be at a faster rate.

__

_“Young Master.”_  a distant voice called. __“_ You must make haste, for you are fading away.” _one dragon announced.

 

 _“You are close to your final destination. The other one awaits for you most eagerly.”_  the second voice added.

 

After that, the voices fell silent.

 

Then, there was a harsh light shining over the archer’s face.

 

* * *

 

 

The Shimada heir blinked several times as he tried to clear his vision. Slowly so, a drinking saloon came into view. The high wooden stools and the oak counter seemed ancient. The lined up bottles on one of the stands were all of the same brand of whiskey that the cowboy favored. On one side of the establishment there were several tables with their respective lamps over each one, some chairs didn't seem to match with their correspondent tables. On the far left there was a pool table. The place itself was small, cowboy themed paraphernalia served as decoration over the discolored walls and the lamps that were hanging from the ceiling engulfed the place in a harsh yellow light.

 

The archer found the cowboy sitting over one of the stools by the counter, the serape and the stetson were both covered in a layer of dust and the string was glowing as it was laid over the farthest reach of the dusty wooden floor.

 

“Fancy meetin’ ya here, darlin’.” the gunner announced as he drank a shot of whiskey but did not bother to turn around to face Hanzo. “You know, I have no idea how ya can keep on findin’ me though.”

 

The Shimada heir moved slowly toward McCree, “You told me once that a magician never reveals his secrets.” the archer shrugged, “I do believe that it should hold true for me as well.”

 

“I guess.” he responded, his back still turned toward the other man. The only movement that the cowboy performed was to reach for another bottle. Hanzo noticed the addition of Jesse’s metal arm but dared not to mention it.

 

He had no need to, for the cowboy confessed how he still felt the absence of his left arm even though he had a prosthesis.

 

“Sometimes I still feel the pain crawlin’ up all the way to the bone, like the day they shot it off.” after taking another swig of liquor he added, “’S all dandy though.” he said. “This one packs one helluva punch.”

 

Hanzo could not move nor could he say anything. This was all so familiar to him that all he could conclude was that the cowboy just like the Shimada heir did regularly, drank to try and forget everything.

 

His lost love who had been left in Hanamura, his family in Overwatch, his lost arm.

 

 _Everything_.

 

“I lost my way…” the cowboy muttered, his mind had fallen into a haze due to the alcohol he had been imbibing. “I lost my Northern Star a while ago. Never thought I would've seein’ it again.” He felt lost and Hanzo felt a pang in his chest after hearing those words.

 

In silence McCree stood up and before long they were both sitting outside on the wooden stairs that were in front of the rundown building’s entrance. A gust of wind lifted a cloud of dust off the soil, the night sky shone with stars and the moon’s silvery glow blanketed the entirety of the valley in a cold light.

 

“S’good to have ya here, though.” the cowboy muttered as he offered the nearly empty bottle of whiskey to the archer who took it and drank a small sip of the amber liquor unceremoniously, the strong flavor made Hanzo crease his face.

 

“This could be used to peel paint off the walls.” he commented.

 

Jesse’s only response was to take the bottle off the archer’s hand and laugh. “Yeah. I’m aware royalty ain’t into drinkin’ this sort o’ thing.” he pointed out.

 

“I was never made aware of the fact that I was royalty. Unless you are referring to yourself.”

 

“Prince Jesse…” he rolled each syllable on his tongue, the drunken stupor made the cowboy’s speech pattern slightly sluggish. “Nope. It ain’t got a nice ring to it. Not like _prince Hanzo_.” he chuckled. “Now that’s a nice tittle.”

 

The archer was certain that it was the alcohol speaking, but when Jesse scooted over to be closer to him and wrapped him up in the serape so that they could share some warmth, he wasn’t so sure anymore.

 

“Ya looked cold.”

 

“I…” he paused as he felt the warmness from Jesse’s body permeating to his side, “Thank you.”

 

Letting go of the bottle, the cowboy proceeded to grab Hanzo’s hand instead.

 

“Y’shouldn’t linger here. You gotta move on.” the cowboy said.

 

“What are you referring to?”

 

“There’s nothing for you here.” he pointed out, “Only an ol’ cowboy alone with his regrets. And you shouldn't be here to see that.”

 

“But…”

 

“No __‘_ buts’_ my darlin’.” the tone seemed stern to an extent. “There’s a long road ahead of ya, and a stray dog like me ain’t goin’ to stop you from walkin’ it down.” for the first time since Hanzo began his journey to reach Jesse in order to wake him up, that had been the first time that the cowboy had urged him to continue instead of trying to keep him by his side.

 

“You are not slowing me down at all, for I am glad to be here with you.”

 

“Then do this ol’ cowboy a favor and continue down yer way.” he paused as if considering his next set of words, instead of talking he kissed hanzo’s temple. “I’m a lost soul here, but I feel better knowing that you are my guidin’ light and I’ll follow ya to the end of this earth.”

 

Suddenly Hanzo was not sure who was looking for whom. Jesse saw him as a beacon of hope of some sort and the archer was the one going after McCree’s trace hoping against all odds that he would be able to bring him back and wake him up. It was a bizarre situation, but then again, when it came to matters of the string of fate nothing was truly logical.

 

The archer gave a slight nod and as he turned his head to answer the request that the gunner had made, Jesse kissed him. His lips were warm, albeit slightly chapped and still tasted of whiskey. Slowly so, Jesse’s hands found their way around the archer’s waist.

 

“Yer as sweet as ever.” the cowboy said between pecks. “and I would love to keep ya here with me forever but…”

 

The archer chose not to speak for he so desired to hear the end of that sentence and yet he chased after Jesse’s lips, until a few more butterfly kisses were shared between them.

 

“You truly need to go.” the cowboy whispered, his lips nearly touching Hanzo’s once more. “There’s more waitin’ for you and ya shouldn't tarry.”

 

Hanzo agreed as he felt something pull at his left side. “Perhaps you are right, for I do feel that time grows short as well.”

 

“Glad we agree on somethin’ my darlin’.” the cowboy muttered as he ran his fingers through the archer’s hair.

 

With one last kiss the moonlight faded rapidly as well as it did the old building and the dark expanse of the starry sky, instead those were replaced with the orange light of a distant dusk.

 

* * *

 

 

 

Once more the archer felt tiredness getting a hold over him, he blinked quickly as if trying to dissipate the weariness with it. Taking notice of the different towers and catwalks that surrounded him the archer saw that he stood near the entrance of Watchpoint Gibraltar.

 

In the distance, walking slowly towards it was Jesse. Measured steps and serape flowing with the wind, the red and gold becoming brighter under the fading sunlight.

 

In just a few moments the gunslinger was standing up in front of the Shimada heir. He seemed distant somehow. As if the weight of the years they spent apart crushed him in more than one way and yet when he laid his eyes upon Hanzo, the cowboy smiled.

 

Hanzo recalled how after he arrived to the watchpoint they had lived day after day as strangers, never sharing more than polite greetings in the corridors and small conversations on the missions they were together. Hanzo often wondered if Jesse hated him for not keeping up with trying to communicate with each other after McCree had left Hanamura.

 

“Howdy darlin’.” the cowboy greeted Hanzo with a tip of his hat.

 

“Greetings.”

 

The sky seemed to neither darken nor become brighter, both men stood in front of each other as the sound of the sea as it crashed over the rocks resembled a distant lullaby.

 

“Wanna take a walk with me?” the cowboy inquired, offering his hand to the archer.

 

“Of course.” the Shimada heir replied as he took the offered hand and allowed Jesse to set their pace.

 

Jesse took them to places that the archer frequently visited within the base. Places where he was often drinking either tea or sake, usually over one of the catwalks or  near one of the multiple cliffs that faced the sea. Always alone. He never joined for breakfast or dinner, avoided people unless it was for a mission, never spoke much.

 

As if he was a man willing himself to become a ghost.

 

Jesse had followed him silently, resembling a shadow for that was what McCree usually did. He always knew where Hanzo was in the watchpoint.

 

“You usually have tea in there.” he pointed at one flat rock that faced the ocean. The sunset resembling a bonfire, the sky was painted in bright golden tones.

 

“How do you know that?” Hanzo was genuinely curious. He had expected for it to be a simple memory but it seemed that the part of the cowboy he was facing knew more than what he was letting on.

 

“How could I not, pumpkin?” he brought the archer’s hand to his lips and laid a soft kiss over the knuckles. “You’re important to me, so I simply paid attention.”

 

“We have wasted so much time.” the Shimada heir stated. His voice bitter with resignation, for the man before him truly deserved more, deserved _better_. “I never considered the possibility of you actually wanting me around. Not anymore at least.”

 

“Darlin'... my honeybee.” the gunslinger embraced Hanzo, he still carried the smell of hay and gunpowder and the essence of tobacco that had permeated the fabric of the serape was present as well. “I’ll always want you. String or not, I’m _yours_.” he whispered.

 

“How can you even say that?”

 

“Because I know ya want me as well. I can’t see the dammed string but I can see you and that’s all I’ve ever needed.” the archer did not respond, which the cowboy took as a cue to continue. “You have lost as much as I have Hanzo. Y’know what bein’ alone and scared for your life means.” the archer laid his head over McCree’s chest and sighed. He felt tired once again, but the steady heartbeat he heard made him forget about his own weariness.

 

“We’re more alike than you think.” the taller man stated, “You shouldn’t be afraid no more. I know I’m not scared ‘cause you’re here with me.”

 

“That makes absolutely no sense.” the archer deadpanned as he lifted his head, his eyebrows were creased.

 

He received a kiss on the lips and a smile afterwards as an answer. “It’ll make sense soon enough, pumpkin. Meanwhile, let’s watch the sunset.” the gunner offered and received a silent nod in response.

 

They walked slowly, hand in hand until they reached a nearby rock formation close to a cliff. The sea sparkled with the bright colors of the setting sun. The gleaming golden light resembling a spreading fire.

 

McCree sat down on the ground with Hanzo taking a seat between his legs, a small patch of grass surrounded the area along with a variety of wild flowers. They watched the slow transition between dusk and twilight in silence. Jesse’s arms laid around the archer’s shoulders.

 

“You’re almost there, darlin’.” the cowboy said. His voice was low and distant. “I know yer tired but, I believe you got this.”

 

Hope is often seen as a candle burning brightly in the deepest of shadows whilst loss is seen as the absence of the flame. For Hanzo that light had never shined brighter than when the cowboy appeared in his life for the first time. The archer hoped against all logic that Jesse would accept the gift he wished to give to him. Hanzo considered it equivalent exchange, one life for another.

 

“What does await for me at the end of the road, I wonder?”

 

He felt as the gunslinger tightened his arms around him. “I don’t know pumpkin, and that’s the scary part.”

 

“Why do you think so?” the archer inquired as he burrowed himself further into the warm embrace. The drowsiness and feelings of exhaustion had returned.

 

“Because I’ve seen that look in yer eyes that means you’re willin’ to do whatever it takes,” the cowboy laid a short kiss over the crown of Hanzo’s head. “I don’t want to lose ya.”

 

“Sometimes we do not have much of a choice.”

 

“Promise me that you’ll try to come back in one piece.”

 

Hanzo sighed, “I cannot guarant-”

 

As it had happened more than once before, Jesse moved quickly and in the blink of an eye he laid a kiss over Hanzo’s lips silencing the archer. “Promise me. _Please_.” he pleaded once more as he took the archer’s face between both of his hands, behind them the ribbon that tied Hanzo’s hair moved with the wind.

 

“I promise.” he replied and he then eyed the string that connected them. It glowed brightly and the sight of it renewed Hanzo’s hope.

 

“That’s better.” the cowboy paused, then gave Hanzo one last kiss. “Thank you.”

 

Before Shimada could say anything else, Jesse and the watchpoint were gone. Instead of the warm embrace the archer was once more left in the cold dark, his only companion was the string. The archer sat in the shadows, legs too weak to carry him any further for his strength had deserted him, he willed his body to get up to no avail so he simply laid there in the utter silence surrounded by shadows as he awaited for the next memory to begin. He still wondered what would happen at the end of it all.

 

What could be the end result of this endeavor?

 

Would Jesse wake up?

 

Was it even possible to reach the cowboy in time?

 

Could he be strong enough to complete his journey?

 

There were many possible outcomes, but there was nothing worse than uncertainty.

 

Then again there was one thing worse than being uncertain of the result of an event, and that was loss. For no one truly accepts loss… one only learns to cope with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: yep, if you have noticed that’s why memory!Jesse hugs Hanzo so much, because his subconscious remembers the promise of never letting him go when they were reunited again and reacts to it due to Hanzo’s presence.
> 
> Thanks for stopping by! Have a great day!


	10. The Name's McCree, Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On this Chapter things will be seen from McCree's point of view. How he perceives Hanzo's presence within his consciousness and their connection through the String.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize on the delay of this chapter but I've been having a terrible week. Had an accident while cleaning the bathroom last Sunday, ended up bruised all over the left side as I fell over the edge of the wall that supports the metal door that grants access to the shower area and it's unfortunately covered in ceramic tiles. So I got bruises over the ribs, hip, arm and knee and a cut that required stitches on the elbow and the fall only aggravated an old injury on my back so I was bedridden until yesterday. My dog is also sick and... I just don't know. He's the family's baby, he's been here for 10 years now... I tear up thinking about anything bad that may happen to him, I just want him to get better.
> 
> And my laptop broke down as well. I had to use my sister's pc to finish this chapter, hence why it's so short. (seems like lady Luck decided to ditch me completely)
> 
> On more cheerful things, I want to thank you all for the comments and kudos. I'm grateful that you take some of your valuable time to stop by and read the story and then leave a comment or a kudo, truly, you're all awesome. 
> 
> And if You are new to the story, then I bid you a warm welcome.
> 
> On a final note: I would like to apologize in case you come across any grammatical errors or misspellings.

* * *

 

Sinking into nothingness felt almost the same as falling asleep, Jesse concluded. Slowly losing all sensation on his limbs and the coldness that was overcoming him disappearing only to be replaced by a pleasant sense of warm and comfort that may had been related to Hanzo’s presence as the cowboy began to drift away.

 

McCree was truly convinced that dying was not so bad. He got to see Hanzo at the very least in his final moments. The archer’s devastated face as he noticed the labored breathing patterns and how Jesse was bleeding out was something that the cowboy never wished to see again.

 

Though by dying he was never going to be laying his eyes over Hanzo ever again. One thing he regretted more than most was that was leaving the archer behind without even letting him know anything about his feelings and the last thing that Shimada got from the cowboy was a broken smile and a few words of comfort.

 

The gunslinger longed for a happier time.

 

He hoped for days long gone and filled with smiles to return, as impossible as it was for it to be so, he still wished for it briefly.

 

_‘Living in the past will make you forget about the present and disregard your future.’_ Reyes used to say. But feeling as death approached imminently the cowboy wanted to go back to the past anyway, at least there he had been happy and cherished. The present was grim and cold and _unforgiving_.

 

He wished more than once as the string of fate became more noticeable to him that his words would reach Hanzo, he needed the Shimada heir to know that he finally saw it.

 

But alas, it was too late.

 

For when he did, not only was he reminded of words that he had repeated to himself over and over ever since he was a child, for he never expected anyone to be tied to him through the string of fate and truth to be told he had dismissed such a belief as an old legend and cursed such a concept more than once.

 

For who would be such a fool as to believe that the old gods of love tied the souls of humans to one another so that they may find completion?

 

Seemingly a _lot_ of people did believe it to be so.

 

And yet, there it was, the other end of the dammed thread, clearly connecting him to the man he had always dreamed of. Jesse McCree was proven wrong in the worst possible moment for as he stood before death’s door, the cowboy saw it clearly.

 

There kneeling in front of him was Hanzo, telling him to keep his eyes open. Begging him to _fight_ , and McCree was simply happy to see that at least in being wrong he got a great gift in the end.

 

Because, since the bond was incomplete and he was dying it wouldn’t affect Hanzo.

 

Wouldn’t it?

 

But oh, how _wrong_  he was.

 

As his eyes closed off and he allowed his lips to feature one last smile for his dragon, he told Hanzo to _smile_ as well.

 

A reminder of those long past summer days they spent together in Hanamura.

 

But he was unable tell him the complete truth. That he saw the string. He only managed a few words that he could recall in fragmented syllables what he told the archer.

 

He told him that _it ends_.

 

But couldn’t say the rest.

 

As unconsciousness took over him, Hanzo’s voice came through clearly, even though he was sure the archer had not spoken. At least not out loud.

 

_“Do not take him away, take me instead.”_

 

Jesse wanted to shout as those words were said, but his eyes were closed and all strength had deserted him. The cowboy then felt himself slipping into nothingness.

 

It was completely dark. There was neither cold nor warm.

 

Time stretched into intervals of unknown value, for the cowboy could be years or mere seconds passing and he was none the wiser.

 

If this was death or better yet the _afterlife_ , then it was rather underwhelming. He had expected more from it than simply floating into a shadowy place with no concept of time or space.

 

In the distance there was a constant beeping noise. McCree was not sure where it came from only that it went on steadily, never stopping.

 

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

 

It could have been years or perhaps minutes of nothing but darkness, but he then felt something. A small tug at first, then a surge of warmth and before long a bright blue sky without a single cloud was all he could see.

 

The earthy smell, the old crate under the desert willow, the red soil… all of those were things that Jesse remembered from his old home. His _childhood_. When he was a small kid that ran around wearing an oversized hat and pretended to be the town’s sheriff, all of those old memories flooded his mind in a few moments.

 

He was _home_.

 

Somehow he could not recall what brought him there. There was some information missing and he felt as if he truly needed to remember the reason why he was back in his old town, but the gunslinger couldn’t recall anything.

 

The first thing Jesse did after realizing that, was to walk around the old ranch. The cowboy couldn’t see much besides sparse old bushes here and there, sun battered wood and some old equipment that was too rusted to be of any use.

 

But he was back home.

 

Or maybe, Jesse had _never left_.

 

Most things he thought he’d seen could have been a dream. Or so the cowboy said to himself, after realizing he was still barely six years old. Surely it had been purely his imagination, for there was no way for Jesse to have left his Má and their ranch behind to go and play hero.

 

If that was even possible.

 

A smile that slowly turned into a fit of laughter took over the small cowboy and before long he was wheezing due to that, for he was feeling happy, truly happy. For some reason he was still at home and in any given minute his mother would call him for supper.

 

The wooden crate that sat underneath the old desert willow was a good place as any for the young boy to sit and sing. He’d always loved to sing. Specially old music.

 

It made him feel at ease.

 

“Bang! Bang! My baby shot me down.” the cowboy finished the song, pondering if he should continue sitting there singing or simply run to the old mill. Since no one was around the house he was free to play until it was time to go to his room once more. At first he hadn’t been sure but upon paying further attention he realized that he had indeed heard footsteps coming towards him. They had been slow and measured, then out of the blue there was another boy standing in front of young McCree.

 

Said boy wore white clothing with blue dragons set as decoration upon the rich pristine fabric. The hair of the other lad was black as ink and reached his shoulders, for a moment the young cowboy wondered if it would be as soft to the touch as it looked if he were to run his hands over the seemingly silky strands.

 

“Greetings.” the black haired boy’s voice was familiar to the cowboy somehow. It felt like a fading dream that one would try to recall upon awakening but without any good results. But it felt as if he should know who it was offering him salutations and yet he could not tell who this boy was, only that he was supposed to _know_ him.

 

McCree felt as if the boy in front of him was someone he not only knew from somewhere but also someone who was important to him. That was why he simply decided to don a bright smile and greeted back enthusiastically.

 

“Howdy pardner!” he offered, his smile never faltering, for if there was something that his mother had always lectured him about, that was politeness. “I’m Jesse!” the other boy seemed lost as McCree shook his hand with far too much eagerness.

 

“And you are?” the cowboy inquired.

 

There was a moment of stretched silence as the other boy seemed to mull over what to tell the cowboy. Which was strange in it’s own merit since Jesse had just introduced himself and asked for the other’s name, nothing else.

 

“I am…” the boy was still undecided, so Jesse decided to break the ice just a little bit more, there was no reason for the black haired boy to be shy.

 

“Do angels don’t have names? ‘Cause that’s probably what you are.” Jesse smiled brightly at the other boy. It was true thought, the other youngster was quite cute and Jesse had believed for a moment that he had to to be a mirage or a porcelain doll that somehow came to life. “Yer very pretty.” he added, and watched amused as the shorter boy blushed slightly.

 

“I am… Hanzo.” the cowboy heard the other say. It tugged something inside of his head to hear the unusual name. As if there should be a reason for McCree to know the alias of the shorter boy.

 

_‘Do I know him?’_  The young gunslinger wondered rather frazzled.

 

“Pretty name for a pretty face.” the tan boy said instead, followed by a short lived whistle, “Nice to meet ya.”

 

“Likewise.” was the reply McCree was given. They both stood in silence until Jesse decided to break it. For he believed that it was of no use to just stand there not saying anything at all.

 

“What are ya doin’ here anyhow? Ya lost?” the cowboy inquired while moving to the side of the crate managing to create a bit of space for the archer to sit beside him, he pointedly patted his hand over the vacant space indicating to the other lad that he should take a seat while he pondered over his answer.

 

“I am looking for someone.” the reply arose Jesse’s curiosity for no one ever looked for anyone around that town, it never really had much of a big amount of population for missing people to be an issue. Before long, the black haired boy was taking a seat upon the offered space over the crate.

 

“Ya’ll passin’ by here then, that’s why I’ve never seen ya before.” the gunner received a nod as a response.

 

It took a few minutes for the cowboy to voice it out but he could not contain his inquiries any longer. He had the feeling that he was supposed to know who Hanzo was and yet as he tried to pinpoint the reason for it, a single line of thought crossed over his mind.

 

It shouldn’t have been _that_  important, but it felt like he should actually inquire after it, as if it would somehow solve a puzzle.

 

“Can I ask ya a question, Hanzo?”

 

“Of course.” the voice was too firm and determined for someone who was probably almost as young as Jesse.

 

The cowboy kept on swinging his legs for a while before he finally formulated the inquiry. It was difficult to put it in words. No one ever spoke much about the Strings in town, unless they found the other person that was tied to them, and even then people deemed it unnecessary to mention anything beyond the common phrase, __“_ I found them, and I am happy for it.”_ McCree never believed any of that since he never got to see his string, he was pretty skeptic of the whole thing altogether.

 

“Do ya see it?” he mumbled.

 

“Do I see what?” Hanzo questioned as he blinked owlishly. Jesse nearly laughed at the confused look upon the archer’s face but decided not to.

 

“The string, ya silly.” he made a wrapping gesture around his right hand, “The one that connects people.”

 

Jesse noticed that Hanzo took a moment too long to answer him, and even after that he had hesitated to say anything else, “...Yes?”

 

So then, Hanzo was connected to someone and he had found them, so early in his life. It was not uncommon but still, McCree found it odd, yet he decided not to press for any more answers as he took notice of the discomfort that it was causing to the black haired boy to answer those questions. “Ah, well. I don’t. ‘Cause my mama said I’ll get to see it when it’s time.” McCree said instead as he gave a few nods that caused the over-sized hat he wore to swing along with his head.

 

The young cowboy mulled over his next question. It would be quite impolite to ask but he needed to know.

 

What if he was connected to Hanzo?

 

Jesse concluded that he would be more than happy for it to be so. He had the feeling that the shorter boy sitting beside him was special somehow.

 

“Can you see mine?” the gunslinger mumbled.

 

Jesse’s nervousness was palpable as he awaited for the answer to come. The bright rays of sunlight that were passing through the space between the leaves of the desert willow were forming shapes over Hanzo’s hair. All that McCree could think of was that on that moment the black hair resembled a field of stars in a summer night.

 

_“So pretty.”_  he thought.

 

“Yes.” the answer broke the silence and also brought Jesse out of his reverie.

 

“Does mine…” Jesse pointed directly at Hanzo’s hand as he gulped on air. His heart rate increased and he felt hope blooming within his chest. This was it. “Does it connect to yours?” the cowboy asked shyly, his freckles more evident as a slight blush took over his face which he hoped was not giving away his eagerness.

 

“No.” Hanzo replied, he seemed rather crestfallen. “It does not.”

 

McCree felt sad at first and then slightly angry, for he wanted to be connected to Hanzo. “Alright’y. Don’t need it anyway.” he smiled, determination was clear in his voice. “My Ma told me that not everyone needs those anyway.”

 

“Wise woman.” Jesse nodded as he heard those words. Then they both fell silent. There was not much to say, save for the fact that they were both sitting together over an old crate with not much to do the young cowboy brought it upon himself not to be a bad host, for Hanzo was his guest and the first rule in the McCree house was: _‘Treat your guests as you would like to be treated by them.’_

 

So Jesse decided that they should play, the cowboy gave a small tug to the shorter boy’s arm.

 

“Hey, ya wanna play?” he offered. Although McCree did not had much in the ways of toys or anything of the sort he was resourceful and very imaginative.

 

“What are we playing?”

 

“Cowboys and bandits.” Jesse announced proudly, then reached over for a couple of wooden sticks and handed one to Hanzo. “Here’s your horse.” the other boy received his ‘horse’ with a smile and then stared not so discretely -for Jesse took notice immediately- at his left hand. Whatever was that Hanzo saw there made him smile even more.

 

Both of them played until it was nearly dusk. By that time Mrs. McCree was calling Jesse over for supper.

 

“I gotta go Hanzo.” Jesse announced. He was disappointed for he desired to stay with Hanzo forever. For some reason he felt as if the other boy was someone he was supposed to know.

 

Jesse wanted to ask, for he needed to _know_  but words deserted him completely.

 

“I will see you soon, Jesse.”

 

The archer’s voice was low and seemed apprehensive, it was decided then and there that that could not be. Jesse wanted Hanzo to smile. So the cowboy gave the archer a small peck on the cheek and then ran off in the same direction from where the voice of his mother kept on calling him. Face red and a few giggles escaping from his mouth.

 

“Bye Hanzo! I hope ya find whoever ya are lookin’ for!” Jesse waved his hand at the other boy who was still standing underneath the desert willow tree, a few flowers fell over from it and McCree smiled at the sight.

 

As darkness fell, Jesse was once more standing alone surrounded by nothing more than shadows. The silence was unnerving for it was something that he had never liked to begin with. Silence meant peace for some but for the cowboy, silence had usually meant that there were trouble brewing.

 

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

 

The cowboy heard once more as nothingness surrounded him. At times he wondered where did that beeping noise came from, for it seemed important for him to know as well.

 

As the shadows engulfed him so did a sense of doubt and sadness as well, albeit those were not his own. The gunslinger wondered from where did feelings such as those even came from if they were not originated by him.

 

“Where am I?” McCree inquired in a gruff voice. The cowboy had never been fond of uncertainty to an extent.

 

Jesse without a moment of hesitation decided to do what he always did in those situations, he sang. It was an old rhyme, the same one had been singing when Hanzo found him sitting under the desert willow. As he slowly rose his voice he noticed that upon the ground there was a red line glowing. At first he believed it to be a trick or a mirage but upon closer inspection he noticed that the more he sang, the more it glowed.

 

So Jesse continued to sing and as he did, wild blue rye, a desert willow in full bloom and an old rickety fence began to appear right before his eyes.

 

He was familiar with that place. That was his secret shooting ground.

 

He usually practiced there with his old revolver.

 

The sky was dark, but not as it had been before when he had been surrounded by nothing but shadows. This time, the whole dark expanse was filled with the celestial shine of the stars.

 

Behind him there were soft steps approaching slowly that he cowboy somehow knew to whom they belonged to. Jesse turned around and smiled brightly for before him stood Hanzo once more.

 

The cowboy had missed him so. He felt as if they had been apart for too long.

 

“Howdy darlin’.” the gunslinger greeted as he reached for the brim of his hat and then walked happily so towards the archer.

 

_‘He’s here.’_ Jesse thought. _‘And I’ve missed him a lot.’_


	11. The Name's McCree, Part II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter after this one with McCree’s point of view and then back to the normal chapters. 
> 
> As always, thank you for your comments and kudos! 
> 
> (On a side note: had to edit this chapter on the phone and oh boy, it was a nightmare.I hope you don't come across too many grammatical errors.)
> 
> (Other than that, things are looking up and my doggy is recovering!)

* * *

 

“What are you doing here?” Hanzo’s distant voice alerted the cowboy of the other’s presence. Jesse laughed quietly before turning around to offer a response to the inquiring archer.

 

“I could ask you the same, darlin’.” the cowboy said instead. It was not as if he enjoyed going in circles when a conversation was started, but he so considered that listening to Hanzo’s voice for longer than it was necessary was completely worth the slight aggravation. McCree sighed and then he faced the archer with a bright smile donned on his face, “But if ya must know, I come here for peace.” the cowboy himself had put the ‘shooting range’ together all on his own. He had grabbed some old glass bottles and soda cans from a trashcan after he had found the spot near a desert willow. The wooden fence, albeit old and falling apart due to the presence of termites was the perfect spot for his targets. Even when he had to replace them periodically, the cowboy considered himself lucky, for at least he had a place to acquire peace of mind and be by himself whenever he had no duties to attend to with the Deadlock gang.

 

With a quick turn after nodding to himself once more, the cowboy drank in the sight of Hanzo. The semi-long dark hair, the expressive eyes, and the pristine white and blue garbs were quite a welcome sight for Jesse. Offering yet another smile to the shorter boy McCree then aimed his revolver at a distantly placed soda can, watching with a pleased grin how the bullet flew through the center of the metallic container in a swift motion.

 

The gunner wondered if Hanzo was impressed. Even mulled over if he should ask but then again the Shimada heir had never been easy to impress. Jesse also wondered if the archer was also going to take notice of the newest scar that was marring his face, it had been in a knife fight where he had attained that cut. It never healed quite well and the pale line that ran over the right side of his mouth was quite visible even from a distance.

 

Then again, the answer would probably be a blatant __‘_ No, I do not care about that. _’__

 

There was still a small distance between the two young men and McCree wanted to correct that immediately. He noticed how the archer was simply looking around, his eyes mostly fixed upon the blossoming tree, as if the simple sight of the falling flower buds of the desert willow brought him a sense of peace and melancholy at the same time. Hanzo seemed sad and yet there was a sliver of hope reflected in his eyes. That made the cowboy wonder what the reason for both emotions to be entwined so deep within the Shimada’s heir soul that his eyes reflected them with such ease. Jesse took his hat off and offered a nod to the archer. His beaten up Stetson was held to his chest and he offered the biggest smile that he could muster to Hanzo. The Shimada heir was special for him, that much was evident. Even when the cowboy could not pinpoint the exact reason, he simply _knew_  it.

 

Hanzo Shimada was special and he cherished him so. He had waited for so long and at last there he was. Jesse could not help himself and simply embraced the archer. They fit together like pieces of a puzzle. Hanzo was warm and his hair smelled familiar, the scent reminded McCree of sunflowers and he relished in it.

 

Jesse felt how Hanzo relaxed into the embrace and he reveled in it. The cowboy found it quite delightful how the archer’s head was placed between his neck and shoulder, Hanzo’s lips were ghosting over Jesse’s pulse.

 

It was as if all his wishes, all that he had ever desired had been encompassed within one single being. For some reason McCree could not fathom his existence without Hanzo. The archer was important.

 

 _Is_ important to him.

 

Hanzo was someone that McCree was not only happy to have found, but he would be more than happy to keep the archer in his life until death makes them part. And even then, no matter which one of them was to die before the other, the cowboy was more than sure that the one left alive would soon follow the one that left the land of the living first.

 

But how could he know any of that?

 

How could he be so sure?

 

After all he was merely a boy.

 

“Stars and wishes, do you believe in them?” Jesse asked instead, and felt how the shorter boy tensed in his embrace.

 

Had the question been too sudden?

 

“I…” McCree heard the other say. “I am not sure.” Hanzo then tried to abandon the enveloping arms of the cowboy, only for Jesse to bring him back into his embrace once more.

 

“Did ya find whoever ya were lookin’ for?” McCree inquired instead, his voice nearly as low as a whisper. He hoped that Hanzo would find comfort in that.

 

“I do not know.” was the quiet answer, and Jesse could hear the hesitation in it as well.

 

“How can ya not know?” he asked as he held onto Hanzo’s shoulders. The other boy’s lost expression worried the cowboy, for Shimada’s worry felt like his own.

 

Who was even Hanzo looking for?

 

Why was he there with Jesse?

 

And most important, why did they kept on finding each other?

 

The place they were at was Jesse’s private shooting range. A place for peace and for him to hone his skills away from the nosy bunch that were the members of the Deadlock gang. And yet Hanzo had found his way into it, and the most interesting part was that McCree could tell that the archer somehow belonged in there with him.

 

“It is difficult to explain.” the Shimada’s heir answered, effectively breaking the silent spell that had befallen upon them.

 

“Come sit with me.” Jesse offered as he took the archer’s hand in his own. It was warm and the gunner smiled as he eyed their entwined fingers and saw how they indeed fit together quite nicely.

 

They sat in silence near the blossoming desert willow. Jesse noticed how Hanzo’s eyes drifted between the falling flowers and the ground. Whatever it was that the archer was looking at made Jesse curious. He tried to work the courage to ask more than once what was on the ground that was so interesting, but the archer’s serene face managed to distract the cowboy each time.

 

“Your hair is colored like the sky on a moonless night. I wonder if ya got stars hidin’ in that head of yours.” McCree said instead. Then he slowly lifted his free hand to tuck in a few hairs behind Hanzo’s ear. The cowboy noticed even in the sparse light that surrounded them how the Shimada’s heir face became red.

 

Silence once more fell between them. Jesse was determined to voice his feelings as he noticed that not only was Hanzo flushed red, it seemed like the archer had also been rendered speechless by the small compliment.

 

Still, it was the truth nonetheless.

 

“But who knows, maybe you are the star.” Jesse lifted one hand to caress the archer’s silky skin. Noticing how the once alabaster colored face became impossibly red as more and more words left his mouth “My Northern star, guiding me home.” then there it was, the cowboy simply allowed his instincts to take over and he kissed the archer. His lips were soft and Jesse felt like a thirsty man who had been offered an oasis filled with water in the middle of the desert.

 

Even when the kiss had been feather light, McCree felt as if he had been waiting for it during a whole lifetime.

 

It had been worth the wait, the cowboy concluded.

 

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

 

Jesse noticed how the suffocating shadows had returned, the beeping noise seemed closer somehow and he could feel a slight weight in his right hand. It was impossible though, since his hand was right in front of him and he could feel nothing in it but air and yet the sensation was there. As if someone was holding onto it.

 

Upon the ground, he noticed once more the faint red line that sometimes would appear. The cowboy had yet to decipher it’s meaning as well as the origin of it. He had a slight suspicion about it, but he needed more proof.

 

The beeping noise continued in the distance and when the cowboy blinked several times, he was in the old rec room of the Deadlock gang hideout. The logo painted over the fading yellow of the wall had always brought a slight sense of comfort to Jesse, for it always reminded him that these people were his family, come hell or high water, they had been and would always be all he's ever had.

 

Taking a beaten up acoustic guitar, McCree allowed himself a moment of respite. He simply played random notes until he came up with a song from memory. An old melody that reminded him of dark inky hair and stars in a summer night.

 

“My sunshine is here.”

 

Jesse simply knew that Hanzo was there, somehow there was no need for him to even look around to _know_ that the archer, _his_ archer had arrived.

 

Yet, when the cowboy lifted his eyes he took in the sight of Hanzo as if he had never seen him before. Long hair, orange and white traditional Japanese garbs and that intense stare that never failed to make McCree’s heart beat faster.

 

“Want to take a walk with me?” he offered along with a bright smile.

 

“No…” the archer replied. “I just want you to come with me.”

 

“No fair sweetheart, I asked ya first.” Jesse’s laugh echoed within the small room. The cowboy stared at Hanzo for a short moment noticing how the archer seemed desperate. As if he was running out of time.

 

“It is important that you listen to me McCree.” the harsh tone worried McCree.

 

“Where to sugar? Not that it matters none,” Jesse offered instead, as he tried to dodge the archer’s previous words. He was not leaving Deadlock. There was no power in the universe that would ever make him even consider that possibility. “I just wanna know where ya’ll be takin’ me.”

 

“Back home.” Hanzo’s words made no sense to Jesse. He was _home_. He had never left it.

 

Right?

 

_Right…_

 

“But this is home right here sweetpea.” he said as he laid the guitar down and stood up slowly. Hanzo seemed to be angered by the answer.

 

“No, it is not.” the harsh tone worried the cowboy even more. Hanzo was being too pushy and it did not sat well with McCree.

 

“Yes it is. This is my family, Deadlock is _my_  family.” Jesse yelled. “And so long as ya are here with me I don’t need anythin’ more than that.” he needed the archer to understand that. They were home, both of them. They could get a small house, only the two of them. It was true that he and Hanzo were both still young, fifteen to sixteen years old tops, but Jesse wanted nothing more than to have his archer at his side for the rest of his life.

 

Why couldn’t Shimada understand that?

 

“You have a family that is not composed by a group of criminals and scum, and if you were to come with me you would be seeing them again.” Hanzo hissed. And on that moment it hit Jesse like a boulder, the fact that he and Hanzo were from truly different circles. It may not seem so, but the differences were there.

 

Would they _ever_ be fit to be together?

 

The archer was obviously from a higher upbringing. It was more than evident, not only in his mannerisms but also his clothing, for the Shimada’s heir garbs were made out of expensive fabric whilst Jesse’s clothes were falling apart at the seams.

 

They were from different worlds and yet Hanzo was there, evidently looking for him and Jesse couldn’t be happier to have been found. Yet doubt reared its ugly head, for how could someone like the archer find something of value in Jesse? The cowboy wondered that a thousand times.

 

Shimada was able to have anyone he wished for and yet there he was, standing in front of Jesse trying to take him away to a better place.

 

The gunslinger was both, flattered and confused.

 

Many feelings clogged McCree’s mind. And yet doubt was the one that emerged  victorious.

 

“That’s a filthy lie and ya know it.” the anger in Jesse’s voice was more than evident. “I have none other family than these _criminals_  and _scum_. And I’m one of ‘em so in this case I’m _scum_  too.” that was it. That was the truth right there. For Hanzo, he and Deadlock were nothing more than the lowest of trash to ever grace the earth. The archer was probably disgusted with him, the cowboy concluded.

 

“You must understand McCree.” Hanzo tried to explain but McCree could not bear to hear those words any longer. It had hurt to listen someone as dear to him as Hanzo to call him scum. It wasn’t as if Jesse hadn’t been called worse, for he had heard worst things from a lot of people, but somehow when it came out of the archer’s mouth it truly hit home.

 

“Understand what?” Jesse yelled once more, he took notice of the slight jump that Hanzo gave. As if he had been expecting to be hit or worse, and yet the gunner could not help himself and continued with his onslaught. “This is _my_ _family_ , ‘cause no one else has ever cared for Jesse McCree other than _them_.” his voice was becoming hoarse and Hanzo’s face albeit impassive at some moments gave way to a deeply saddened expression. Jesse had wanted to stop but also had the deep need to make his point across. “They fed me and clothed me,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “I ain’t gonna go and lie and say it was easy growin’ up among them, ‘cause it wasn’t.”

 

After saying that last part the cowboy wanted to laugh. Being in the Deadlock gang for so long had made him harsh and quite a bad mouthed brat sometimes, or so some of the higher ups had said and yet, when it came to Hanzo, the cowboy could not voice out a single cuss word.

 

“But at least they _cared_  for me when no one else did.” Jesse said instead, after noticing that Hanzo was not about to add anything to their one-sided conversation.

 

“I only ever had them and you, ya know? Sometimes I dreamed of you when I was a kid you where always there all silent and serious never smilin’ unless I went and played with you or spoke to you.” the cowboy suddenly commented. Jesse had the feeling that Hanzo needed to hear that.

 

“What do you even mean by that McCree?” the curious yet surprised tone of the Shimada’s heir made the gunner smile.

 

“I had no idea who you were, but I saw you sometimes whenever I slept and it didn’t feel like a dream. It felt real, and I knew you were important but never knew how much ‘til now darlin’.” McCree pointed out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. For the cowboy at least it was. It had always been. Many a night he had laid wide awake in his old cot waiting for sleep to claim him in order to see that boy dressed in blue and white surrounded by two cerulean colored dragons.

 

“Darlin’ why so quiet?” the gunner inquired after the silence stretched for far too long.

 

“I was simply contemplating my next words.” Hanzo’s voice was filled with regret.

 

“Oh, and those would be?” Jesse voiced out a bit too cheerful. He felt as if he should lighten up their conversation for the grim face that the archer was featuring was not a good omen.

 

“You have people waiting for you. There’s a life for you outside of this. A _good_ life.” he heard the hopeful tone as it mingled with the soft spoken words. “And if you come with me you could have it back. Do you not want to return to it? Do you not wish to have something more than mere dreams?”

 

Jesse did wish for that to be so. But only with one condition, if Hanzo was there with him. For what value would a new family hold for him if this young man that stood in front of him with such a sad expression marring his face was not there.

 

“Are ya in it?” Jesse inquired as he walked slowly towards the archer. He needed to take the sadness away from Hanzo. He wanted to see that smile again, for Jesse whenever Shimada smiled the sun shone brighter in the sky. “Are ya in this so _wonderful_  life ya keep on mentionin’?”

 

“Perhaps.” Jesse heard the resigned tone in the other’s voice. As if he was either trying to lie and could not bring himself to do so or had accepted something that was inevitable.

 

“I need somethin’ more than a simple _maybe_ , pumpkin.” McCree pushed for more as he drew closer to the shorter young man.

 

“If you leave this place, then you could see it for yourself.” the archer offered. “So, I ask again. Are you willing to leave this place and follow me?”

 

“No, I don’t darlin’. This is all I’ve ever had and I’m happy with it." McCree replied firmly. "I’m stayin’.” the gunslinger wanted to offer the archer to stay. For what could be better than to have his darling with him? Nothing could actually top that.

 

“So be it then, I will be leaving for there is no sense in me staying here if you are not willing to see reason.” the cowboy saw Hanzo as he took a step away from him and turned his back, ready to walk away from Jesse.

 

“Yer supposed to stay with me too, darlin’.” McCree tried to stop Shimada from leaving. “This place means nothin’ without _you_ in it.”

 

Even if McCree was happy to be there, the fact that he and Hanzo could share a life together was of great importance to Jesse.

 

The cowboy simply stood still as the Shimada’s heir walked through the door. The dust mites danced upon the last rays of sunlight that filtered themselves along the crevasses on the walls of the old hideout. Darkness fell slowly and the only thing that Jesse could voice was, “Don’t you be leavin’ me too my darlin’.” then once more, nothingness surrounded him.

 

_Beep._

_Beep._

Beep _ _._ _

 

The once comforting beeping noise had returned and instead, it irritated Jesse. It was annoying for he knew not of it’s origins let alone where he himself was at the moment. The warm weight he felt over his right hand had spread a little. He found it somewhat comforting even if he had no idea where it came from. Sometimes he could swear that there were voices instead of the bothersome sounds made by a non-existent electronic device that was nowhere to be seen.

 

And there it was again. That strange glowing light that for some reason was there only to disappear whenever he blinked.

 

The shadows faded away slowly and instead gave way not only to a concrete building, but to a familiar shooting ground within the Overwatch facilities.

 

Hanzo’s quiet footsteps alerted Jesse of the other’s presence.

 

“Been waitin’ for ya, darlin’.” he placed his revolver back into it’s holster and faced the quiet young man. As always, the Shimada’s heir appearance was impeccable. The pressed traditional garbs this time in white, black and orange colors, the long hair nearly reaching his waist and the new addition of a beautifully handcrafted wooden bow along with a quiver full of arrows, made McCree wonder more than once where had this man been his whole life.

 

Besides of his dreams, of course.

 

Hanzo resembled a marble statue and Jesse felt drawn to him like a moth to the flame.

 

“Ya were gone for so long, that I thought I was never gonna see ya again.” Jesse decided to say in order to break the ice, for the elder Shimada did not seem too keen to speak on that moment.

 

“I was not gone for long.” was the reply that Jesse was given.

 

“But ya were.” it had been _years_  since the last time he saw him, let alone dreamed about him. There had been a time where the cowboy’s dreams had been nothing more than darkened spaces surrounded by long shadows and distant voices. 

 

Instead of speaking any longer Jesse simply took Hanzo in his arms. “I’m glad you are here, I missed ya so much.” the gunslinger said as he buried his face in the long inky strands. Having Hanzo there felt like coming home to him.

 

The archer was always a perfect fit for his embrace and he smelled of pine and sunflowers and sometimes cherry blossoms. The cowboy found comfort in those scents, for they meant that his archer was there in his arms. For the gunslinger, Hanzo was his  _home_.

 

“I am sorry for my absence.” the archer whispered, and to Jesse those words meant the world.

 

“Don’t ya be sorry my darlin’, ya are always worth the wait.” he offered a smile to the Shimada heir, “Even when ya are slower than molasses I’ll still wait for ya.” he joked.

 

“You are impossible.” the archer replied with a smile of his own adorning his face. Jesse could not help but to laugh at the sight. Seeing the archer with such a happy expression made the cowboy’s heart beat faster and it made him glad to be there to witness such a precious sight.

 

Hanzo for him was a star, _his_  Northern Star. A guide among all the confusion and shadows that had often befallen him. The last light to always brighten up his path, even when nothing but silence and darkness surrounded him so.

 

“Yeah, been told that a few hundred times.”

 

Then Jesse took the archer’s face between his hands and kissed his lips. The soft pecks upon the warm mouth resembling the fluttering of a butterfly. The cowboy could feel how Hanzo smiled between each brush of their lips and he relished in it, for the archer’s happiness was his own.

 

“I’ll be seeing ya soon, for real this time darlin’.” Jesse promised as he felt the darkness encasing him once more and the beeping noise returning. Only that now it was even clearer _and_  louder he noticed. Before it had been as if he had been hearing it with his head under water, and now it seemed closer.

 

_Beep._

_Beep._

Beep _ _._ _  

 

The darkness that surrounded him felt different as well. Less heavy somehow. The weight on his right hand became more solid as well. It was warm and inviting.

 

The line across the ground glowed a bright red before disappearing.

 

Then around him, the walls of an ancient Japanese castle took shape. The courtains of cherry blossom petals as they flew with the wind took his attention for it was quite a sight, the whole scene reminded him of the desert willow tree back home.

 

The emptiness of the place did not surprise the cowboy at all, he actually found it rather quaint for such a grand place to be completely devoid of people. Interesting but not surprising. Jesse walked over the property finding that the pink blossoms carried a scent that he was familiar with and that he had missed for such a long time that he was not even sure it was even real anymore.

 

He followed a wooden sidewalk until he passed under a bridge, there on the furthest part of the clearing, standing with his bow ready to shoot an arrow was Hanzo.

 

The shorter young man was a vision of white and black clothing standing gloriously among the falling pink petals. Jesse was smitten by the sight. He could have said so many things and instead in his distraction he blurted, “Told ya we would be seein’ each other soon.”

 

His voice seemed to have taken the archer by surprise if the slight jump and gasp were anything to go by. Jesse in order to appease Hanzo simply offered his brightest smile and laid his hat over his chest. “Pretty handy with that bow.” he said, and watched in wonder as Hanzo’s face became as pink as the falling cherry blossoms that were surrounding them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for stopping by!  
> Have a great day!


	12. The Name's McCree, Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay on this chapter. I had previously said this was going to be the last one from the McCree PoV but this one ran quite long, it originally had over 12k words so I had to divide it and I'm now editing the next one so that Jesse's point of view can be over with the following chapter. **(I do apologize for that as well, I did not meant for it to drag on for so long. I'm sorry.)**
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> _Thanks for the kudos and comments. I'm grateful that you take time of your day to read this story._
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> (Apologies beforehand for any grammatical errors you may find.)

* * *

 

“Took ya long enough, darlin’.” Jesse’s words were clear enough to grab Hanzo’s attention. The cowboy noticed how the archer gave him a slight smirk before responding.

 

“I am here nonetheless, regardless of my tardiness.” the smile that Shimada offered Jesse made the cowboy’s chest feel warm. It was such a rare sight and it was something that the gunslinger relished in, for Hanzo’s rare smile was something that few got to see.

 

“How ‘bout ya leave that bow and come have a nice walk with lil’ old me?” he offered a hand to the Shimada heir who took it most eagerly. They began to make their way slowly across the vast terrain that encompassed the Shimada castle grounds. Jesse could not stop staring at the archer, for he could not believe his eyes that such a handsome young man was willing to hold hands with him let alone give him the time of day.

 

McCree wanted to ask Hanzo so many questions. Not only about his time as an archer or how his family worked, but also as to why he favored poetry books and that quiet spot under the wisteria and cherry blossom trees near the koi pond.

 

Instead, the cowboy noticed that Shimada was lost in thought and decided to bring the archer out of his reverie. “Stop thinkin’ so much sweetpea. I can hear the gears overworkin’ in that head of yours from here.”

 

“Ah, my apologies.” Hanzo’s voice was distracting to Jesse, no matter what he was saying there was some sort of entrancing quality to his tone. McCree was more than fond of it.

 

“No need for any of that, darlin’.” he felt as the Shimada heir’s hand squeezed his in response. “Let’s go to the gardens.” the cowboy offered.

 

“Of course.” Hanzo nodded in response.

 

Jesse loved this place. For it not only brought a sense of peace upon his soul, but it also managed to make Hanzo smile more.

 

He wanted to stay there.

 

Wherever it was, if it meant that his archer would be happier for it then he was more than glad to do so.

 

The falling pink petals were something that Jesse considered to be out of a fairy tale. It was nearly entrancing to stare at the flower buds as they danced and moved across the garden with the wind.

 

“I had always wanted to see them cherry trees blossomin’.” McCree mentioned as he began lowering his voice until it was nearly a mere whisper. “but I never got to see ‘em like this, none of that. Only in pictures.”

 

“I see.” he noticed how Hanzo’s eyes were set upon a far away point over the wooden fence that surrounded the garden.

 

Jesse could tell that the archer was distracted for some reason.

 

Was he not happy to be there with him?

 

Was Hanzo uncomfortable in Jesse’s presence?

 

Instead of making any invasive questions that would probably anger Hanzo, the cowboy decided to make a simple inquiry.

 

“What do ya call that?” he pointed at a high up spot on the trees where light filtered through the branches. His question was more than enough to bring Hanzo out of his entranced state.

 

“Komorebi.” the archer had replied and it made McCree feel as if he had heard the word before. _Somewhere_.

 

“Weird.”

 

“How so?”

 

“I feel as if I have heard that word before, but I ain’t sure of it because this is my first time here.” he was more than certain that it was and yet in his mind he recalled himself laying upon the grass with the archer by his side telling him the same word and its meaning.

 

* * *

 

 

_It was summer and there were no falling petals from the cherry blossoms, the shade of the trees provided a small refuge against the suffocating heat of the unforgiving season._

 

_“Komorebi.” Hanzo paused slightly as he felt Jesse’s eyes upon him. The archer held the entirety of the cowboy’s attention and was unaware of it._

__

_“Huh… Komorebi.” McCree repeated._

__

_“Yes.” the archer said, “It is defined as the light that passes between the leaves and branches of the trees.”_

_Then the cowboy had moved closer to the archer and took his hand. “ Quite the fancy word for that.”_

__

_Hanzo smiled at him, “Nonsense, cowboy. That is simply how it is.”_

__

_They both laughed afterwards, and the sound of Hanzo’s melodious laughter was something that Jesse never wanted to live without ever again._

__

_The light still passed between the green leaves and the patters that it made surrounded them, making it seem as if they were floating in a sea of stars._

* * *

 

__

The old memory had faded as fast as it had arrived, as Hanzo’s voice brought Jesse back to the present time.

 

“Do you not feel as if something was missing?” the doubtful tone carried a small intone of worry in it as well. It did not sat well with Jesse for Hanzo had no reason to be worrying so. The world was theirs to do as they pleased, they lived within the Shimada castle walls. They were _safe._

 

_Weren’t they?_

 

“What do ya mean by missin’?”

 

“There are no other people here but us.” Hanzo pointed out, “No guards, or servants. Do you not find it strange?”

 

The cowboy took his time to answer, for the archer’s points were valid and yet to him they made no sense. This was their castle to do as they pleased. They had no servants for they needed them not. “It has always been like that sweetheart, we are lords of this castle and we need none other people.”

 

There was silence from Hanzo’s end and Jesse had no desire for that to continue, so he grabbed a fistful of petals from the grass and allowed them to fall over the archer’s head. The cowboy smiled as they cascaded over the inky strands of hair. “They suit you.” he whispered as he then offered a crooked smile to the Shimada heir.

 

For his part Hanzo seemed to continue to be lost within his own mind and the gunslinger was having none of that.

 

“Penny for yer thoughts.” he voiced casually, noticing how his words had the desired effect and finally brought Shimada out of his train of thought.

 

“I apologize, I was lost within my mind.” the creased eyebrows were a clear give away that Hanzo was worried about something.

 

Whatever it was, Jesse wanted to know, but that was not the moment for it. They were supposed to worry and mull over their problems on another occasion for the moment they were sharing under the blossoming trees should not be tarnished with concerns and doubts.

 

“That’s fine darlin’.” Jesse had said as he managed to bring Hanzo to lay underneath him. “Ya look good like this.” the green grass was barely visible as it was almost completely covered in the pink petals that had fallen from the cherry blossom trees. Hanzo’s hair was a marvel to the cowboy, the silky strands mixed with the rose colored buds fascinated Jesse to no end.

 

“How so?” Hanzo’s voice carried a slight tone of mirth in it.

 

The cowboy moved his head to the side so that his mouth would be ghosting over Hanzo’s ear. “Ya look like one of those princes from the old books, all pretty and crowned by flowers.” he did not manage to make Hanzo utter a single word for the archer provided him with a bright smile instead. For his part, Jesse moved slowly once more. His movements more deliberate as he laid a kiss over Hanzo’s cheek, then moved over to the corner of the archer’s mouth until he then finally reached Hanzo’s lips.

 

 _‘Kissin’ is better than talkin’, anyhow.’_ the cowboy thought.

 

* * *

 

Night had fallen around them and the cowboy did not seem to have noticed it so, instead he simply continued with his ministrations, noticing how the archer was relishing in the attention and returning the kisses and embraces with equal fervor.

 

Until Hanzo took Jesse’s face between his hands and asked a simple question.

 

“Are you happy?” his voice was low as he ran his fingers though Jesse’s hair evoking a pleased hum from the cowboy, on that moment McCree rested his head over Hanzo’s chest as the later continued the slow ministrations to the gunner’s head.

 

“’Course I am, darlin’. Why’re ya askin’?”

 

“I needed to hear you say it.” Jesse could tell that there was more to it but could not bring himself to press the archer for more.

 

“I want to stay here forever.” the cowboy mentioned offhandedly. It was true though, that place was special somehow and Jesse wanted to stay in it with Hanzo until the end of time.

 

Yet, there was a sense of foreboding in his mind. As if he should not be saying that.

 

As if the mere prospect of him staying there was something akin to dying.

 

But _that_ could not be true.

 

_Could it?_

 

The cowboy laid his eyes on a far away point near the koi pond. There, a gathering of fireflies left behind them long streaks of light akin to strings. It was strange for him to be noticing that on that moment let alone the fact that the first thing that came to his head was the word _‘string’_. Suddenly, Jesse wanted to stop thinking about it.

 

It bothered him somehow.

 

“Jesse I must t-” the cowboy interrupted Hanzo with a kiss. He had no desire to talk. At least not on that moment, for they could be doing something better with their mouths. “Ya can tell me later, sweetpea.” he had said between kisses and Hanzo nodded. 

 

* * *

 

Time had passed either too slow or too fast for Jesse’s taste for when he came to notice, Hanzo had left his embrace and had walked towards the Koi pond slowly. McCree wondered if he would be able to convince the archer to stay with him.

 

The cowboy was aware that he was not exactly the kind of man that anyone would bring over to have dinner with their parents, let alone have the prospect of a life together, and yet he wanted that with Hanzo.

 

Even if he was seen as nothing more than a mere low-life. Another street rat rescued from an untimely death who was trying to make do with what he had.

 

Would the Shimada heir even want that?

 

Would he be willing to leave a life of comfort to be with Jesse?

 

It was quite tempting for him to ask such a question, yet the cowboy considered this was neither the time nor the place to make such inquiries. Instead he approached the shorter young man and brought his arms around Hanzo’s waist.

 

“What are we looking at, darlin’?” the question was followed by a simple kiss on the side Hanzo’s neck, right underneath his ear. He felt how the archer shivered after the slight contact.

 

“I need you to hear me out. Do not interrupt me until I am done.”

 

“I hear ya.” Jesse agreed, and for a few minutes a heavy silence fell between them.

 

“I want you to know that our time now has come to an end of sorts.” suddenly the cowboy felt scared. What was even the meaning of such words? He wanted to interrupt Hanzo but he had promised not to. “I want you to remember all of this.”

 

“Darlin, why does this sound like a goodbye?” the cowboy asked, for after such words he could not help but to fear what was in store for both of them.

 

_Was Hanzo leaving him?_

 

“Jesse please, allow me to finish.” the gunslinger nodded and the Shimada heir took it as a cue to continue. “Perhaps it is a farewell of sorts.” he heard Hanzo pronounce each word firmly, as if he was not only trying to convince McCree but himself as well.

 

The sadness in Hanzo’s voice voice worried Jesse. It felt as if the archer had come to terms with something he knew would happen and in accepting it he was sealing his fate.

 

Nonetheless, McCree suspected that it was not only Hanzo’s fate that was a stake, but his own as well.

 

“I want you to know that I cherish you my darling one.” he heard Hanzo pause in order to take a deep breath, “I want you to remember this…” the archer seemed to be having a difficult time voicing out his words. “All of it, if you are able. All the times we shared together and, I hope that perhaps those memories will bring a smile upon your lips when you reach old age.”

 

 _“How could I ever forget you my darlin’?”_ the cowboy wanted to question, but he had promised to keep his silence until the archer was done and he would do as he had been asked.

 

“Darlin’…” Jesse’s worry was palpable. He could not allow his archer to be saying such grim things when they were both supposed to be happy as they were finally together.

 

For they were.

 

_Weren’t they?_

 

“Hanzo, why are y’tellin’ me this?” he tightened his arms around the shorter young man as he spoke, for he could remain silent no longer. “Y’re scarin’ me.”

 

“I want you to be happy.”  

 

 _“But why?”_ Jesse had wanted to inquire. _“I’m happy with you here. I’m happy with you by my side.”_ Hanzo needed to know that. He needed to hear it from Jesse’s mouth.

 

No matter what other people thought, no matter whoever it was that was tied to Hanzo’s other end of the string; McCree needed to let the archer know that he was the only one he had ever been willing to share his life with.

 

The string of fate matters not to Jesse, for feelings and soulmates are more complex than flimsy little light threads tied to people’s hands.

 

They did not need those to be happy, and he needed the archer to know that.

 

Instead, he allowed Shimada to continue even though Jesse’s heart felt heavy as he kept his silence.

 

“But if you forget all of this instead, even if my memory is erased from your heart and mind and it fades away like fog after the sun rises on the sky when you awaken from your slumber…” there was a slight pause from Hanzo’s end. The archer took in a ragged breath as if he was steeling himself not only to voice out the last of his thoughts on the matter but to accept such a reality as well.

 

Jesse had wanted to question the fact that Hanzo had mentioned the word _slumber_.

 

Was none of what was happening real? For the cowboy was more that sure that it was. He was _awake_.

 

None of it was a dream.

 

_Or was it?_

__

In the distance the beeping noise could be heard once more and he was made uneasy by it. He had more questions than answers and yet when Hanzo resumed his speech the gunslinger decided to save his inquiries for later, for he was more than sure that they would have more time to answer those anyway.

 

“Then you should just move on. For this will be nothing more than a dream to you and you will have forgotten it by the time your eyes have opened.” McCree could do nothing more than to nod and keep the Shimada heir in his embrace.

 

Such words carried a heavy meaning.

 

They had been filled with acceptance and foreboding. As if the archer was aware of the future, and it seemed that nothing good was laid in store for either of them.

 

“I am sorry I was never good enough.”

 

That did not sat right in Jesse’s mind for Hanzo held more value to him than all the riches in the world. “You are enough. Always have been and always will.” and that was true. “Why don’t ya turn ‘round?” McCree pleaded softly.

 

“Because I must leave.”

 

“I gave you a blue paper once, d’ya remember it?” the small piece of cerulean colored stationery had held words with that had great significance, for Jesse had wanted nothing more than for Hanzo to come with him back then.

 

He went still for a second.

 

Back when?

 

_When?_

 

He could not tell. But he had been sure he had asked that to Hanzo.

 

_Hadn’t he?_

 

Silence fell between them once more as the gunslinger laid a soft kiss over the crown of the archer’s head. His doubts could wait, for he preferred to bring comfort to his archer instead.

 

“I still have it. You simply handed it over and told me to read it later, but I never got the chance until it was too late; for I was unaware of the urgency of it.”

 

“Darlin’, the offer still stands.” the cowboy sighed, his head was spinning. The beeping noise was back and it was becoming gradually louder. “I still want that. I still want ya with me. No matter if there’s a string or not tied to both of our hands.”

 

“Of course.” he heard Hanzo say, his reply was followed by a slight nod.

 

Jesse felt how the archer left his embrace. The gunslinger felt cold all of a sudden. “I must leave.” Hanzo had announced as he avoided looking into Jesse’s eyes.

 

The beeping noise became louder but could not take his attention away from Hanzo’s sad expression. It was as if he truly desired to commit every last detail -of not only McCree but, that place was well- to his memory.

 

As if it was the end.

 

“Darlin’, I know I’ll be seein’ ya again soon. But I’ll miss you all the same.” he held his Stetson over his chest and sang a single line from an old favorite of his. _“Bang. Bang. My baby shot me down.”_ his voice trembled and somehow he knew he could not simply accept the fact that his archer was going away.

 

It _hurt._

 

“Jesse,” Hanzo called. Slowly so, the cowboy lifted his head and stared at the Shimada heir. The sadness in his expression worried McCree, for it seemed that this was truly a permanent goodbye.

 

On the back of his head he could hear the loud intrusive noise once more. It was loud, too loud for his taste.

 

Was he going insane?

 

“Yeah?” he mumbled in response as he was able to once more concentrate. There was fear creeping over his chest nonetheless, his heart was beating faster and his hands shook.

 

Hanzo, _his_  archer was leaving and he could not stop it from happening.

 

“Smile… _please._ ”

 

He gave Hanzo a short lived smile. Then it was all dark once more.

 

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

 

The noise was indeed becoming louder. And the feeling of something attached to his hand was more prominent.

 

There were distant voices as well.

 

He could recognize them, at least a bit.

 

 _“He’s getting better. He is indeed showing signs of improvement.”_ a feminine voice said.

 

 _“What of Hanzo?”_ that other voice had a slight electronic timbre.

 

 _“I cannot lie to you.”_ there was a short pause. _“He is getting weaker as McCree is getting better. The IV line is there to provide him with sustenance but it is no substitute for any real food or water.”_

__

_“I knew it would come to this.”_

__

After that, there were only silence and darkness.

 

 

* * *

 

Doing his job was never an easy task. Getting answers out of criminals and terrorists was never effortless or simple. The cigar he held between his lips was slowly filling the room with a hazy cloud of gray smoke and even though there wasn’t any sort of device close by the cowboy could swear there was music playing. Not the kind he preferred though, it was a low beat music that seemed so far away he could pretend it was not even there to begin with, but the barely-there electronic beat of it provided the gunslinger with a semblance of comfort nonetheless.

 

And yet having Hanzo suddenly behind him in that interrogation room made the cowboy feel apprehensive.

 

“Ya’re not supposed to be here.” the gunslinger did not even bother turn around.

 

“Jesse?”

 

“Darlin’, now’s not a good time.”

 

As he finished the sentence and with a sigh of acceptance, McCree decided to to face his newest visitor.

 

Hanzo not only looked tired he also seemed to have lost a significant amount of weight. He must have been running and hiding not only from the Shimada-gumi but also from the other clans in Japan. After all, when the heir of such a powerful organization runs away there would be more than one person willing to kill him.

 

McCree noticed that the archer’s clothes were worn-out and some places presented tears and threadbare fabrics. Life on the run usually took a big toll on the person, as it was evident in Hanzo’s face. His high cheekbones were more prominent, the skin under his eyes featured dark circles and his hair was shorter. The inky strands were tied in a high ponytail with the golden ribbon that Jesse had gifted him.

 

McCree felt guilt crawling within his chest for he could have prevented that.

 

He could have had Hanzo with him. They could both had been in Overwatch or Blackwatch working together. Not rich, but at least neither of them on the run and suffering from hunger and other needs.

 

This was his fault somehow.

 

“Look,” the cowboy began. “Ya truly shouldn’t be here. Not that I’m not happy to see ya but, ya shouldn’t be seein’ any of this.”

 

“Were you torturing someone?”

 

“Just doin’ my job.” he said. “How did ya end up in here anyway?”

 

“I was looking for you, as you may have noticed.”

 

“Well, ya found me.” his voice came out harsher than he intended it, “Now, ya can leave this place.”

 

“Do you hate me?”

 

The archer’s inquiry not only took the cowboy by surprise, it also nearly made his heart stop; for how could Hanzo even begin to fathom that Jesse would ever be able to hate him?

 

In a few moments it hit him. Hanzo was afraid.

 

The former Shimada heir was a man on the run, he had nothing to his name but his bow and the clothes on his back. He believed his brother to be dead and his family most likely wanted to dispose of the ex-yakuza for deserting the clan.

 

Just like McCree, the former Shimada heir had _nothing_.

 

He also seemed to expect Jesse to reject him.

 

The cowboy could have possibly said a lot of things. Could have used words of reassurance and yet in his state of surprise all he managed to voice out was a loud, “WHAT!?”

 

The question echoed within the confined space and it was followed by a heavy silence.

 

The archer stood still and stared at the cowboy, as if trying to take a guess of what would Jesse either do or say after such an outburst.

 

“I’m sorry pumpkin,” McCree apologized, his voice soft and hands raised as if he was trying to calm a spooked animal. “It’s been a long day, that’s all.”

 

He received a short nod in response as the archer stood still, he gave no emotions away for his face was reminiscent to that of an ancient sculpture. His neutral expression prompted the cowboy to continue with his apology.

 

“I don’t hate ya darlin’. Never have, and never will.” and that would always be true in his book. Jesse considered himself lucky that somehow Hanzo had found him, and he was eternally grateful and glad for it; for having the archer by his side always made him feel at peace.

 

Yet, it also made him question the reason why Hanzo was in a Blackwatch facility to begin with.

 

Before he was able to make any sort of inquiries, the archer spoke.

 

“Then please tell me, what is going so badly for you to be this frustrated?” he noticed how the archer’s voice was lower, as if he was trying to keep their conversation calm in order to avoid upsetting the cowboy further.

 

He had always liked that about Hanzo. The man had a way to keep himself serene and collected even in the most distressing situations, and McCree found it quite reassuring and also endearing. He truly cherished the archer and every single bit of him, from his personality, to his skills and his way with words. For as little as he spoke, whenever he did his words often held quite a deep meaning and conveyed strong messages along with deep knowledge that the archer was happy to share.

 

He simply loved him as he was, and the cowboy was determined not to lose him to anyone. Not to whomever was at the end of Hanzo’s thread and not to his clan, for he could not fathom himself without the archer’s rare smile and his quiet presence.

 

Jesse’s world would never be the same without Hanzo.

 

So, he decided to talk. “Everythin’ _i_ s wrong.” the gunner wanted to tell the archer everything, but he could not. And it was not because he did not trust him, but because he felt as if Hanzo had enough on his plate already. So Jesse decided to gloss over it. “Everythin’ is fallin’ apart, even my family.” Jesse continued, “Specially _my_ family.”

 

It took the gunslinger by surprise when Shimada simply sat on the cold concrete floor and invited the cowboy to join him. “Sit please, and do talk, for I will listen to anything you may have to say.”

 

Those simple words meant the world to McCree, for he knew that the archer was with him then and there and was giving no signs of ever wanting to leave him. “Things are crumblin’ down in here darlin’.” the gunslinger sighed once more. “Everyone’s leavin’. Gabe’s been weirder and more secretive than normal lately. Ana’s dead, they want to shut down Overwatch and Jack…” the cowboy gulped, “I don’t even know what to think anymore. I just wanna leave this place and never look back. ‘Cause I know there’s nothing I can do to stop anything bad from happenin’.”

 

Hanzo tilted his head to the side, as if trying to motivate him to continue. “But they’re my family still. And family don’t go leavin’ each other.”

 

The archer nodded in response. “Circumstances may force you to do so. For sometimes leaving tends to be our only choice. On other instances our time may simply be up, and we must leave on our own accord.”

 

A quiet spell fell between them for a short while. The cowboy chose to reflect on the words that Hanzo had shared with him and found truth in them, for sometimes the choice is taken from us as simple as that. Jesse was cornered and there was nothing he could do to avoid anything from happening. His hands were tied.

 

“Sometimes we do not have a choice at all, Jesse. Either way, one needs to move on to avoid being absorbed further into such conflict altogether.”

 

“Yeah, I know…” it was true, he needed to leave it all behind. He was going to move on and he was going to bring Hanzo along with him, for they had no more reasons to be separated.

 

It took him a moment to break another silent spell that had befallen between them, the smoke of his cigar was still filling the room with a hazy cloud of smoke. The cowboy was aware that he should mention the archer’s sibling, for they had been working for a long time together.

 

How could he even bring any of that into conversation?

 

He mulled over it and concluded that the fastest option was to simply say it.

 

“Genji’s gone, ya know?”

 

“How so?” the archer questioned as if he had been expecting to hear just that. Jesse found it eerie how Hanzo seemed all cold suddenly.

 

“He said he needed to find his peace somewhere else, so he left Blackwatch.”

 

“I… see.”

 

McCree needed to say something else for their conversation was quickly delving into a monotone one as less and less words were shared. The archer seemed also hesitant to even continue it altogether. “I don’t blame ya.”

 

It was more than clear as to what McCree just had referred a mere moment ago.

 

“You should.” the self-deprecating tone raised an alarm within the cowboy’s mind.

 

“But I don’t. ‘Cause for one, I wasn’t there so I have no idea of what and why it happened only of the outcome, and two,” he paused to take the cigar off his mouth, “I repeated to myself over and over that I needed to hear it from ya. Yer brother is filled with rage, I saw him tear apart more than one man in the battlefield after they reconstructed him. He has his reasons for bein’ such a little rage ball but…” Jesse took a small pause and stared down at the still lit cigar, the ashes fell slowly to the ground as the tobacco burned gradually. “Now I want to hear yours for bein’ as sad as you are.”

 

“I am not s-”

 

“Darlin’, pumpkin, sweetpea… _please._ ” Jesse could not help but to interrupt the archer, for he needed to know desperately what was going through Hanzo’s head in order to help him, for he was not going to allow _his_ archer to battle any of his fears and self-doubts alone. “I can tell how ya feel, I can see it in yer eyes. Please, just tell me. If ya were tryin’ to help me merely minutes ago, then let me help ya as well.”

 

“That would serve no purpose, for what is done can not be undone.”

 

“Ya got to forgive yerself, you know?” he added.

 

‘”I d-”

 

“Sweetpea, listen to me, please.” Jesse said and then proceeded to take Hanzo’s hand, then entwined their fingers. “As ya said, circumstances may force one’s hand.” he quoted the archer, “I believe ya had enough punishment as it is, self-inflicted by isolatin’ yerself or worse. And the idea of you being harmed or lonely wallowing in despair with no one to go to, it appeals t’me _none_  my darlin’.” the archer remained silent.

 

“These are dark times darlin’, we’ve got to hold onto the few sparks o’ light we may find on the way.” Jesse whispered as he placed Hanzo over his lap, the familiar weight brought a sense of completion to Jesse. He had missed this so; having his archer with him made him feel whole and it was a feeling that he reveled in.

 

“Just like we held fireflies in our hands back in Hanamura and made wishes under the veil of the night.” McCree smiled at the memory that such words evoked, for it was true that when they were together in the gardens of the Shimada castle with only the light of the fireflies to illuminate the place as the stars were glowing over the dark expanse of the moonless night sky, they had made more than one wish among shared caresses and deep kisses.

 

It had been a wold of their own, a world they knew quite well for every bright star upon the sky had been witness of their shared love. Jesse often went back to those days for they had been simple. He only had to sneak around and often found Hanzo at the same place, sitting under the shade of a cherry blossom and a wisteria tree.

 

“Just like that my darlin’.” McCree could not help but to lay a kiss upon Hanzo’s temple. “Like when a few of them landed on yer head and ya looked like the crowned prince ya were always meant to be. All regal and bathed in light.” the memory evoked a small smile on both of them.

 

“I guess I’ll be seein’ ya soon, pumpkin.” the cowboy said, but he was not sure Hanzo had heard him for it was dark once more and the distant electronic noise was back, somehow it had become even louder.

 

Something or someone was touching his right hand once again. Jesse found it not only warm, but also comforting somehow.

 

At first it was the beeping, but after blinking for a while the gunner noticed his surroundings. He was in a train cart. More specifically, inside the cargo bay.

 

It had been a dream.

 

_Just a dream…_

 

“Must’ve fallen asleep.” he muttered, then played a few notes with the acoustic guitar he had been holding on his lap. He sang a few verses and then his eyes landed upon the lone figure sitting across him. “Glad to have ya here with me, darlin’.” he said with a smile, knowing that Hanzo had been watching over him as he slept made him feel better somehow. He felt safe, for if the archer was there with him then everything would be all right. The cowboy was sure of it.

 

The gunner left the guitar over a few stacked suitcases and as he stood up to stretch his legs noticed that the cart was rather cold, and not only that but that Hanzo’s clothing was not going to be able to supply enough warm to the archer, so Jesse took the serape off his shoulders and wrapped it over Hanzo’s with a smile. The cowboy relished in the fact that the archer had burrowed himself into the warm piece of cloth right after it had been laid over him.

 

“Where are you going?” the question seemed strange, for if Hanzo was there traveling along with him then he should be aware of their next destination.

 

_Shouldn’t he?_

 

“Deadlock Gorge. Gotta repay some debts in there.” he answered nonetheless.

 

Jesse had a plan, and he had gone over it more than once in his head. He could only hope it would work for his and Hanzo’s sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for stopping by.  
> The story will be back on track on chapter 14. (finally)  
> Have a good day!


	13. The Name's McCree, Part IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last part of the McCree POV.
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments!
> 
> Hope you enjoy the chapter.

* * *

 

“Do you have anythin’ I could drink?” in all fairness the cowboy truly felt the need to drink in order to get a hold of his anxiousness, as the simple prospect of setting foot once more in Deadlock’s territory was something that made him feel quite apprehensive. He was more than sure that a few shots of whiskey would surely help settle down his nerves, the amber coloured liquid never did fail him before.

 

“No, I do not.”

 

“That’s a shame, darlin’.” the gunner announced as he tired to get more comfortable on the far away corner he had chosen to sit at. “Could use a few sips myself.”

 

“Why Deadlock gorge?” the question was expected, yet McCree felt as if he was to answer it there would be an unpleasant conversation to follow.

 

“Told ya I have some debts to repay there.” and it was true, it was something he _had_  to take care of. The Deadlock gang had been something he always kept in mind even after all the years that had passed since he left it. They always returned to either collect their debts or to kill, nothing in between. They were akin to bugs in the summertime, impossible to be rid of.

 

“What are you not telling me?”

 

Hanzo kept on pressing for answers and the cowboy truly desired to tell him so, but there was a strange feeling in the back of his mind that told him that in doing it so, he would put the archer in danger as well, and that could not be. This was _his_  score to settle and Hanzo needed to stay where it was safe.

 

It wasn’t as if the archer could not take care of himself, for nothing could be further from the truth and McCree was well aware of that fact. He simply wanted to avoid having the only person he had left in his life taken from him as well, just like everyone else had.

 

“Darlin’, the less you know, the better.” he heard the archer sigh in defeat and the atmosphere became heavy. Jesse felt as if he should tell him but it was better that way. Less risks. “I still want somethin’ to drink though.”

 

Hanzo’s laughter filled the small space they were encased in, and McCree’s heart felt lighter as he heard the melodious laugh of his archer. It reminded him of a morning back in Hanamura when he and Hanzo had spent the night within the archer’s chambers and Jesse had woken up quite late the following day.

 

The fact that he hadn’t even reported back to Reyes the previous evening made things worse. But instead of running out right away, he simply stayed longer and laughed along with the Shimada heir.

 

He remembers the moment with vibrant clarity. How the soft breeze moved the curtains, the tenuous light of the early dawn as it made its way into the room engulfing everything with a pale yellow glow, the silken bed-sheets and Hanzo’s warm body in his embrace.

 

* * *

 

_“Reyes 's gonna kill me.” the groan that followed was one of annoyance, “Though, if it was up to me I would stay in bed with you all day darlin’.” he pointed out. “Even if the boss kills me”_

 

_“You truly need to manage your time better, my cowboy.” the archer moved closer to the taller young man as he made no effort to get up from the spacious bed._

_“Well, I’m just fine where I am right now darlin’.” the cowboy tightened his arms around Hanzo and the archer did the same as well. “Ain’t no power on this earth that’s gonna make leave any time soon.”_

 

_"Not even my father?"_

 

_"Not even the Dragon Lord himself."  he chukcled._

 

 _"Such a brave soul." The Shimada heir joked._  

 

_"Anythin' for my darlin'." Jesse said, his voice taking a serious tone. "I would move heaven and earth to be with you "_

 

_“I would do the same as well.” Hanzo brought their foreheads close, “But, you truly need to get up, lest you end up grounded or found by the guards and we never get to be together like this again.”_

__

_“You make a very convincin’ argument pumpkin but,” the cowboy laid a soft peck on the archer’s lips, “You forget that my Southern charm can get me almost anywhere.”_

__

_The Shimada heir laughed at those words and Jesse followed suit._

__

_“Oh, and should I take a guess now and say that it would also prevent you from the obvious reprimand that is coming your way?”_

_“Ah darlin’, you need to have a lil’ more faith in me.” the cowboy brought Hanzo up so that the archer was then laying on top of him, coal black hair surrounded both of their faces in a similar way to that of a cascading curtain that blocked the sunlight that was filtering through the windows._ _Hanzo stared down at Jesse, a soft smile adorning his face._

 

_“Honeybee, this is worth it.” the cowboy whispered, his eyes never looking away from Hanzo’s._

__

_The archer’s bright smile was more than enough of an answer for him._

__

_Hanzo was happy and so was he._

 

_The scolding and the surveillance duties he received for the next three days had been more than worth it in the gunner’s book._

 

* * *

 

“Of course you would, cowboy.” McCree was brought out of his reverie by the soft spoken words that were followed by a short lived laugh.

 

“You know me too well, pumpkin.”

 

“I do not believe that I know you well enough, but I would like to.”

 

In all honesty Jesse could say the same. He knew some tidbits of information about the archer but the cowboy considered that it was not enough. Sure he knew Hanzo’s favorite color and his favorite dish but that was mere superficial knowledge. He also had insight on some of the more complicated matters in the archer’s life, such as his relationship with his family, and his thoughts about the clan. How he had been the one who had to bear the weight of being the heir over his shoulders on his own while Genji disregarded his duties and was coddled by their father.

 

Still, that was not enough.

 

 _‘Gotta remedy that.’_ he thought.

 

“Well if ya want to know me better, then you can ask me some questions. We have plenty o’ time to burn anyway.” the train ride was to last about four to six more hours, more than enough time for a few deep conversations to be had.

 

“I confess that I do desire to make such inquires but, I would just rather listen to you talk.” the cowboy felt flattered after hearing such words coming from Hanzo. “I like to listen to your voice. I find it soothing.”

 

With that said Jesse became aware of the archer’s footsteps as he approached, and in a few moments he had Hanzo sitting on his lap. “It is rather cold in here.” he heard Shimada say, in response McCree simply wrapped his arms around the archer’s waist and he felt whole by doing it so. Hanzo bundled them both in the serape and the sense of comfort that the mere action provided to Jesse was beyond any measure.

 

They truly belonged together, he could feel it.

 

The string be dammed, for nothing that felt so right as their connection could be wrong. Even though only one of them was aware of it and Jesse did not even know who it was that Hanzo was actually connected to. It was not important in the cowboy’s book, for he had heard about plenty of people who went on with their lives never finding their intended soulmate and they were quite happy with whoever they chose to be with.

 

They did not _need_ the string.

 

That had been Jesse’s mantra for the longest time, and it would continue to be so. Although, perhaps he kept on repeating such words to himself because he never truly wanted to face the fact that Hanzo belonged to another and that he would probably leave Jesse for the other person.

 

That thought scared Jesse, for somehow he felt as if the archer was one of the pieces that were missing in his life.

 

But what if he wasn't necessary in Hanzo's life?

 

He shuddered at the mere concept of that being true.

 

“I missed ya somethin’ fierce, darlin’.” as those words left his lips he felt as the archer laid his head over his shoulder. “I missed your smile and your hair. Even though you cut it short, it still looks mighty pretty.”

 

Silence followed afterward and the cowboy was more than aware that he should be saying something more. But there was so much in his head, _too_   _much_ that he needed to let out and he was not truly sure as to how or where to begin.

 

“After I left Blackwatch… The explosion at the Zurich HQ happened just a few weeks after I walked out… it all went down from there. Gabriel and Jack died in it and so did most of the people I used to work with.” Jesse longed for a drink on that moment, for if anything else, the liquor would help dull the pain. “Though, I still believe there must have been something I could’ve done to help. But now that’s just another regret I’ll be carryin’ to my grave.”

 

“That was almost two years ago and, then I became a gun for hire. Even got a bounty over my head and all that.”

 

“And that is why you are going to the gorge?” he heard the archer question.

 

“Yeah, pretty much.” In truth, he was going to that place not only to settle a debt but also to get out of Deadlocks grasp once and for all. That gang was a shadow that followed him often whenever he went. He was never going to be able to erase his past, that was more than obvious for no one really could, but he wanted to set things right. It was not a fresh start, but it could be something similar to it.

 

Jesse wondered if Hanzo would like to live a life like the one he was currently leading along with him. Just trying to keep low and doing some good whenever they could. The cowboy considered it could work, for both of them had nothing more than their skills, a set of weapons and the clothes on their backs.

 

Though he suspected that the archer was living something quite similar to that anyway.

 

Jesse felt as if he should ask Hanzo but instead he changed the subject, for he could not voice out his thoughts on the matter on that moment.

 

“Remember when I told ya that when I found you again I was never gonna let you go?”

 

“I do remember.”

 

“I’ve been tryin’ to keep good to that promise.”

 

“Wha-”

 

In the blink of an eye and right before the archer was able to begin a sentence, darkness had swallowed it all.

 

The cowboy was once more back in the enveloping darkness. Only that it wasn’t as dark anymore, for he could feel as if there was a set of bright lights right above his head. His eyes albeit closed, could perceive the new source of luminescence.

 

It also came to his mind that the constant beeping he had been hearing was that of a heart monitor, which had suddenly seemed louder instead of a simple feeble noise in the distance.

 

There were voices once more.

 

His right hand felt warm, as if someone was holding onto it.

 

 _“Where am I?”_ he wanted to ask but the words died in his throat for he was not strong enough to voice them out. He felt as if his strength was failing him as he attempted to open his eyes and he could not do so.

 

He felt as if he was a stone sinking to the bottom of a deep lake.

 

Then it was dark once again.

 

* * *

 

 

The cowboy’s arrival to Deadlock gorge had been a quiet one. Somehow the entire place seemed deserted and yet Jesse could feel eyes on him, but whenever he turned around there was nobody. The old buildings were oddly empty as well. Motorcycles left untouched and the saloon’s jukebox was playing an old rock song in a loop.

 

The lights in every one of the edifices were on, as if the people that inhabited those places would be returning to them at any given minute. The Deadlock’s gang logo was sprayed over several places, as if they needed anyone who dared to set foot within the gorge to know about their presence. Jesse laughed at that, for it wasn’t as if it was not a known fact that they had taken over the entirety of that area.

 

Still, the overbearing calmness and the total emptiness of the place was unnerving.

 

Some of the numerous cacti that could be seen in the vicinity were in bloom. Their flowers were a bright crimson red reminiscent of blood, the colour of their petals contrasting to that of the serene cloudless blue sky.

 

Something was not right, for the cowboy could feel as if there was someone behind him still, but he could not see them. McCree continued his walk but then upon reaching the main gates of the area where the gang usually stored the weapons they used to make deals with, he heard a shot in the distance and then felt pain spreading over his left arm.

 

A name came to his mind and the word _duel_  rang along with in his head as well.

 

Jesse could not move, his left arm was gone from the elbow down and the copious amount of blood he was losing made him dizzy. He felt how another bullet logged itself in one of his legs, the blinding agony made him lose his balance.

 

 _“Sniper.”_ he thought, for it was the only possible explanation for those shots to have come from seemingly nowhere. The cowboy ducked for cover behind a rock formation and hoped to have broken the line of visibility of his assailant expecting that the simple action would buy him some time. He needed to make a tourniquet over the wound lest he would lose consciousness and bleed to death on the ground.

 

McCree tore off the red kerchief from his neck in a single pull, using his mouth and right hand to make the tourniquet over the remnants of his left arm had not been an easy feat, and yet he managed. The wound on his leg would have to wait until he found supplies to tend to both injuries properly.

 

As he found himself sitting upon the ground a single thought made it through his head amidst the pain he felt.

 

_Hanzo._

 

They were probably going to try and get the archer as well. _How?_ He had no idea, he only kept on thinking they could and that they would most definitely take Hanzo from him.

 

That could not be.

 

He needed to keep Hanzo safe, for he had nothing to do with Jesse’s past mistakes.

 

The cowboy stood up and limped as fast as he could while trying to keep a low profile. His Stetson had fallen from his head somewhere between the attack and he could not return to gab it, it was not important nonetheless for he needed to locate Hanzo before he passed out. His archer needed to be kept safe.

 

It seemed like an eternity for Jesse as he had to move slowly across the area, his blood often falling to the ground making the rusty red soil even deeper in color.

 

It took some time but he finally found the archer.

 

Hanzo seemed lost, as if he had found himself in the middle of a skirmish, but there was no one in close proximity to either of them. The Shimada heir was still wrapped in Jesse’s serape an and odd sense of pride swelled Jesse’s chest making the cowboy forget about the immense amounts of pain he was feeling for a handful of seconds.

 

In a few moments he was brought back to reality and reminded of the fact they they were both in a considerable amount of danger, for his attacker was yet to reveal itself.

 

“Ya gotta go darlin’.”

 

“Jesse wh-”

 

“No. No. No. Ya gotta leave or they’ll get t’ya as well and I can’t let ‘em do that.”

 

Dizziness took a hold over the cowboy for a minute, taking notice of the wounds that were copiously bleeding all over, the archer reached for the gunslinger to stop him from falling over.

 

“Who is coming Jesse?” the low voice helped Jesse to focus on something more than the pain.

 

“Deadlock.” and that could not be, he was not going to allow them to get to Hanzo.

 

“I will be fine.”

 

“No, you will not. You’re a single man and they are dozens. They’ll do anything to take ya from me.” bullets he could handle just fine, pain as well, but Hanzo coming to harm because of him? _never._ “I don’t want that to happen, you’re all I have left.”

 

“It will be all right.” the archer trying to reassure him failed to bring him much comfort for he was more than aware of what every single one of the members of the Deadlock gang were capable of. He had been one of them, he knew how they operated, he knew what they would do and that should not come to happen. Not if he could help it.

 

“No. No. _No._ They’re not goin’ to take you from me. They can have the arm or both arms if they want but not you. _Never you_. They took you once from me but not again.” he felt faint and quite delirious as well, his surrounding were becoming blurry.

 

They needed to run, for he was sure they would be attacked at any given minute.

 

“Jesse, You must calm down. No one is taking me from you.”

 

For Jesse, Hanzo’s voice seemed distant, as if the cowboy had his head underwater. He kept talking nonetheless. “That ain’t happenin’ darlin’. You’re my sunshine and without ya there’s just the dark left and I ain’t fond of it. It’s cold without you, like in winter when the sun’s hidin’.”

 

Jesse felt how he began to fall down after a wave of dizziness made him topple over but Hanzo had been there to break his fall, the archer bearing his weight in silence as his worry seemed to have stolen his words away.

 

“’S not really worthy to continue without ya. You’re all I’ve ever truly had, don’t need them strings to tell me that. I just know it.” his words were slurred and he was not sure if he had been speaking out loud or merely thinking, still, the cowboy hoped that Hanzo was listening.

 

“I am here now Jesse.” the words of reassurance made Jesse feel slightly better.

 

“I’m glad yer here, makes everythin’ a lil’ bit better if I get to see yer pretty face.”

 

“Of course.”

 

After that, he felt his consciousness slip away.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It could have been hours or perhaps minutes, but the moment he opened his eyes he was in Hanzo’s arms. The archer had covered him with the serape and seemed to have been able to bring both of them to safety. Where to? The cowboy could not say, but the enclosed dim lit space and Hanzo’s embrace made him feel safe.

 

Still, the cowboy wondered how it came to be that Hanzo had not been located by either the sniper nor any of the members of Deadlock even though he had to carry Jesse’s dead weight as well. It seemed like an impossible feat and McCree wanted to ask about it but before he was able to speak up, Hanzo made a simple question.

 

“Would you like to hear a story?”

 

Perhaps it was an attempt to keep McCree distracted from the pain, for they were stuck without any medical kits or any other supplies. The situation in itself was worrisome and yet in Jesse’s agony riddled mind, Hanzo’s voice offered him solace.

 

“Ah, sure thing my darlin’. Y’know I love yer voice.” with that said the cowboy felt as Hanzo’s fingers combed over his hair. The soft touches evoking a smile and a contented sight from Jesse.

 

“I see. I am flattered to hear that.” his head came to rest over Hanzo’s chest, the archer’s steady heartbeat almost lulled him to sleep. “I shall endeavor to do it more often, then.” he heard the Hanzo say.

 

“Please do, pumpkin. Yer voice’s like a calming balm to this ol’ cowboy’s soul.” and it was true, for Hanzo’s voice was akin to a siren song for Jesse. He found it to be utterly captivating, for the archer’s timbre was something he longed to hear everyday and hoped to never have to live without.

 

“Flatterer.”

 

“It's the truth honeybee.”

 

“For being someone who is hurt and bleeding copiously, you seem rather cheerful.” he felt a slight pressure over his lips, then a small speck of warmth spread over his chest. He had received a small kiss from the archer, soft and feather light. _Perfect._

 

“If that’s what I get for talkin’ too much, then I’ll do that more often.”

 

Hanzo chuckled and tightened his embrace, “Please Jesse, just be quiet and allow me to begin the story.”

 

“All right. I’m all ears pumpkin.” he closed his eyes and focused on Hanzo’s voice.

 

_“This is the story of two dragons that once fought over the land…”_

 

As the story progressed Jesse felt as if he was sitting before an enkindled hearth in the midst of winter. He felt warm, like a patch of frozen grass when its reached by the first rays of sunlight. And the archer’s voice kept him distracted from the pain. The story itself had been beautifully narrated by Hanzo, and Jesse hoped that if they both made it out from their current predicament he would be the recipient of more tales such as that.

 

In fact, he would be glad to hear anything that Hanzo was willing to say, for the archer’s voice was as entrancing as the rest of him.

 

Light had decreased gradually around them announcing the impeding arrival of the twilight, and the lower temperatures that would arrive as the night settled in. Jesse could feel himself slipping into unconsciousness and he worried that Hanzo would be found by Deadlock goons. He had no strength left in him to fight the impending grasp of lethargy as it took a hold over him and neither could he help the archer to fight against any potential threats that may come their way.

 

The cowboy opened his eyes and blinked several times in order to bring the archer’s face into focus. The sad smile he saw in the fading light of dusk as it made its way into the cave made Jesse's heart sink. Hanzo’s sadness felt like his own.

 

“See ya real soon darlin’?” there was hopefulness entwined along with the sorrow he was feeling as he voiced the question. His despair was more than clear, for when he made his inquiry the archer remained silent for a few seconds and simply chose to tighten his embrace.

 

“I believe so.” Hanzo’s voice was brittle.

 

Jesse felt how the archer’s fingers were caressing his face, leaving warm traces over his clammy skin with each brush. Like shooting stars as they traversed the night sky.

 

“Don’t leave.” he heard Hanzo say. The archer’s voice was becoming even more distant somehow. As if he was barely there as it was.

 

Jesse closed his eyes and heard Hanzo’s call once more. “Not yet.” the archer begged.

 

“I’ll be seein’ you when I wake up darlin’.”

 

He felt a small kiss as it was laid over his forehead, then as darkness surrounded him and unconsciousness dragged him down, he heard Hanzo scream. The cowboy’s heart felt heavy with sorrow, for his archer’s despair was also his own.

 

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

 

The dark was comforting somehow. The pain was gone and for a short moment he had once more seen the red line that often appeared whenever he was in the shadows.

 

_What was it?_

__

_Why did it kept on appearing only to be gone a second later?_

He had no idea.

 

Even in the suffocating dark, surrounded by nothing but shadows and uncertainty, Jesse’s right hand still felt warm even when the rest of his body was numbed by the cold.

 

Only one name came to his mind over and over, it repeated itself within his head like a prayer…

 

  _Hanzo._

_Hanzo._

_Hanzo._

 

 

* * *

 

 

The old streets of Santa Fé were still familiar to him on such a degree that the cowboy was sure he could walk them blindfolded. The broken up pavement and the red soil that protruded from the deep cracks were usual sights for him, as well as the rundown saloon at the end of the road where he had gotten drunk more than once.

 

Long gone days reminiscent of whiskey flavored nights and loud music.

 

Stepping inside of the wooden building brought back memories of several drunken brawls that ended whenever the owner of the bar took out his shotgun and aimed at every patron within range, a threatening look in his eyes while he kept a rigid posture and dared any of them to go on with their fight.

 

The patrons usually quieted down afterwards, and business continued as usual until the next quarrel began anew.

 

The old memories brought a smile over Jesse’s weathered face. The cowboy could use more of those but he tried not to latch onto them for too long, for living in the past usually snared anyone not willing to give up such thoughts, the future becoming a distant thought.

 

McCree chose his usual stool by the far corner of the bar, far away from the attention of any walk-in patrons and close enough to the barkeeper to have his glass filled constantly. Even though the place was empty that did not deter the cowboy from reaching over the counter for a bottle of whiskey that had been triple-distilled and aged for twelve years.

 

“Fancy.” the cowboy muttered as he took a quick shot and felt how the smooth liquid ran down his throat, leaving behind a pleasant trail or warmth in its passing.

 

The yellow lights overhead bathed the entirety of the place in a golden light that somehow reminded Jesse of candlelight. He focused on drinking each shot of the amber liquor hoping that with each glass of the alcoholic beverage his sorrows would disappear one by one. At least for a while.

 

He took notice of the bottle nearing its end at the same time that he felt a presence behind him, along with the ever-present pull to his right hand whenever the archer was near.

 

Hanzo’s arrival was similar to that feeling before lightning struck down. The smell of ozone and the sudden quietness that would be followed by a flash of light, an electrical discharge and the loud rumble of thunder. Hanzo was a storm, but he was also the peace that preceded and that followed the passing of the tempest as well. Jesse could tell that his archer was there, standing right behind him, probably with a look of disappointment marring his face.

 

“Fancy meetin’ ya here, darlin’.” he took another shot of whiskey and tried to avoid turning around for he feared that by looking into the archer’s eyes he would be lost in them once more, and he could not bring himself to do that, not on that moment.

 

“You know, I have no idea how ya can keep on findin’ me though.” another shot of whiskey followed up after he spoke. He could feel the liquor dulling the edges of his mind even further. He stared at Hanzo’s reflection on the nearly empty bottle and felt a warmth within his chest that he could tell was not related to that of the whiskey he had been imbibing.

 

 _“I’m glad you keep on finding me, though.”_ his mind provided. __“_ I don’t feel as lost when you’re with me.”_

 

“You told me once that a magician never reveals his secrets.” he heard the archer’s footsteps as he moved even closer, his mind then focusing on the approaching figure. “I do believe that it should hold true for me as well.”

 

“I guess.” he reached for another bottle, his movements deliberately slow as if to give the archer time to turn tail and leave the cowboy to his misery.

 

Still, Jesse knew Hanzo was not going to be leaving him any time soon. He _never_ did.

 

“Sometimes I still feel the pain crawlin’ up all the way to the bone, like the day they shot it off. ’S all dandy though.” McCree noticed how Hanzo stood still after he mentioned his lost limb. “This one packs one helluva punch.”

 

Acting as if he did not cared about anything anymore was quite the giveaway for people to keep their distance. He needed to keep them at bay, for by being alone the cowboy felt safer. That way there would be less hurt, for there was nothing worse than to have something you cherished taken away from you _over_ and _over._

 

Family, friends… _his lover._

 

_His darlin’…_

 

None of it ever lasted, and he was tired of it all.

 

Not that any answers were going to be found at the bottom of a bottle, but it was a start. At least the drunken stupor would make it easier for him to talk to Hanzo.

 

He took another three shots before he was able to gather enough bravery to speak.

 

He refused to face the archer nonetheless.

 

“I lost my way… I lost my Northern Star a while ago. Never thought I would’ve seein’ it again.” Hanzo did not move after hearing the confession either. It was as if the archer was expecting more words to come his way, but McCree was exhausted, he could not do any of that anymore.

 

Life had taken its toll over him. Days on the run, sometimes forgoing food and water in order to find a safe place to stay for a while and bandage his wounds, sleeping in alleys and being hunted down relentlessly.

 

Hanzo did not need any of that in his life, Jesse considered. Yet by knowing that the archer was there with him, he felt a semblance of peace that he hadn’t reached in a long time.

 

The cowboy made up his mind, stood up and took the newly opened bottle of whiskey in one hand and intertwined his other hand with Hanzo’s and guided them both out of the saloon.

 

Outside, the veil of night had fallen over the quiet town. The stars shone like distant drops of silver paint over a dark canvas. The moonlight was covering the valley with it’s cold embrace.

 

“S’good to have ya here, though.” he offered the bottle to the archer who took it without ceremony and swallowed quite a bit of its contents.

 

“This could be used to peel paint off the walls.”

 

“Yeah. I’m aware royalty ain’t into drinkin’ this sort o’ thing.”

 

“I was never made aware of the fact that I was royalty. Unless you are referring to yourself.” Hanzo’s voice carried a hint of mirth and it made Jesse’s heart feel lighter.

 

“Prince Jesse…” he rolled each syllable on his tongue, the drunken stupor made the cowboy’s speech pattern slightly sluggish. “Nope. It ain’t got a nice ring to it. Not like __prince Hanzo__.” he chuckled. “Now that’s a nice tittle.”

 

A comfortable silent spell fell between them. Both men staring at the night sky.

 

“Ya looked cold.” Jesse said after he wrapped Hanzo in the serape. Both of them shared the soft warm fabric.

 

“I…” McCree felt how Hanzo relaxed beside him, “Thank you.” he heard his archer say.

 

“Y’shouldn’t linger here. You gotta move on.” Jesse told Hanzo as he took a hold of the archer’s hand.

 

“What are you referring to?”

 

“There’s nothing for you here.” Shimada remained silent, “Only an ol’ cowboy alone with his regrets. And you shouldn’t be here to see that.”

 

“But…”

 

“No _‘buts’_ my darlin’. There’s a long road ahead of ya, and a stray dog like me ain’t goin’ to stop you from walkin’ it down.” he needed Hanzo to understand that he needed to move on, it was imperative that the archer continued his way.

 

What for? Jesse could not tell, but there was this voice in his head telling him to prompt the archer to continue.

 

“You are not slowing me down at all, for I am glad to be here with you.”

 

“Then do this ol’ cowboy a favor and continue down yer way. I’m a lost soul here, but I feel better knowin’ that you are my guidin’ light and I’ll follow ya to the end of this earth.”

 

Hanzo seemed confused after hearing such words but agreed with a short nod nonetheless.

 

The positive response incited Jesse to kiss Hanzo. The short brush of lips became deeper as both men lost themselves into one another. Hanzo still tasted of whiskey and Jesse relished in the fact that he had his archer in his arms once more and that they were sharing a kiss. But just like everything else, that too had to come to an end. “Yer as sweet as ever.” the cowboy said between pecks. “and I would love to keep ya here with me forever but…”

 

Jesse took in a deep breath, “You truly need to go. There’s more waitin’ for you, and ya shouldn't tarry.”

 

“Perhaps you are right, for I do feel that time grows short as well.”

 

“Glad we agree on somethin’ my darlin’.” the cowboy muttered as he ran his fingers through the archer’s hair.

 

They kissed one last time and in the blink of an eye Jesse was surrounded by shadows once more.

 

The red line had become clearer somehow and in close inspection Jesse took notice of it. He followed the crimson thread from where it glowed over the floor to its origin.

 

The strange light… the string was tied to _his_  right hand.

 

“What in tarnation!” the cowboy yelped.

 

He had a string of fate?

 

How? _When?_ Who was it tied to?

 

How hadn’t he been aware of it?

 

Before he was able to continue questioning the new found knowledge, the shadows had dissipated and instead the golden light of the setting sun shone over his eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

Jesse stared at his flesh hand as if there was something missing from it. He ignored the fact that he was standing in the premises of the watchpoint in Gibraltar and instead focused on some sort of knowledge that was eluding him.

 

He blinked several times as he believed what he had seen was a mirage, yet the distant figure that was slowly approaching did not disappear from his line of sight.

 

The dark colored _kudo-gi_  was the give away along with the pulling sensation over his right hand. As if for cue Jesse began to walk towards Hanzo with a determined stride.

 

For he knew it was the archer.

 

How?

 

He was not sure, he simply _knew_ it was Hanzo.

 

He greeted the archer with a bright welcoming smile, a tip of his hat and a happy, “Howdy darlin’.”

 

“Greetings.” the archer seemed tired. Dark bags under his eyes and his cheeks seemed gaunt. His reply had been nothing more than a mere whisper.

 

Still in Jesse’s eyes and surrounded by the light of dusk, Hanzo was a vision of elegance in the cowboy’s book. For how could he not be? McCree could spend hours describing how magnificent his archer was, if he was ever given the chance.

 

On that moment it occurred to him that his dragon was there. Hanzo was standing in front of him once more and Jesse felt as if he hadn’t seen him in years.

 

It felt like it somehow.

 

“Wanna take a walk with me?” he offered his hand to the archer.

 

“Of course.”

 

Hands clasped together, Jesse guided Hanzo in a small tour that he believed the archer needed. At first, they visited the shooting range and the kitchens but then McCree saw one of the catwalks in the distance and took them both there. He knew Hanzo frequented that spot to be alone. He knew that the archer preferred his self-imposed solitude and yet he could not help but to follow him around, if anything to know that Hanzo was there at all.

 

Jesse had often followed him silently, resembling a shadow for that was what McCree usually did. He always knew where Hanzo was in the watchpoint.

 

“You usually have tea in there.” he pointed at one flat rock that faced the ocean. The sunset resembling a bonfire, the sky was painted in bright golden tones.

 

“How do you know that?”

 

“How could I not, pumpkin?” he brought the archer’s hand to his lips and laid a soft kiss over the knuckles. “You’re important to me, so I simply paid attention.” and it was true. He followed Hanzo around and usually left small tokens in those places or food sometimes. Cookies and fruits with a simple note that read: __‘_ for you’ _

 

“We have wasted so much time. I never considered the possibility of you actually wanting me around. Not anymore at least.” the sadness in Hanzo’s timbre made Jesse crease his brows.

 

“Darlin’, my honeybee.” Jesse took Hanzo in his arms, the smaller man fitting quite well in his embrace, as it had always been. “I’ll always want you. String or not, I’m _yours.”_ he whispered.

 

“How can you even say that?” he had expected to hear the doubt in the archer’s voice but not the resignation alongside with hesitation. As if Hanzo believed he was not deserving of Jesse.

 

“You have lost as much as I have Hanzo. Y’know what bein’ alone and scared for your life means.” McCree was aware that Hanzo’s head was laid over his chest, his rapid heartbeat was being heard by the archer, but all he had been saying was true and he needed Hanzo to know that.

 

“We’re more alike than you think. You shouldn’t be afraid no more.” he held the archer tighter, “I know I’m not scared ‘cause you’re here with me.”

 

“That makes absolutely no sense.”

 

Jesse gave a small peck to Hanzo’s lips, he had missed those kisses. “It’ll make sense soon enough, pumpkin. Meanwhile, let’s watch the sunset.”

 

They walked slowly, hand in hand until they reached a nearby rock formation close to a cliff. The sea sparkled with the bright colors of the setting sun. The gleaming golden light resembling a spreading fire.

 

McCree sat down on the ground with Hanzo taking a seat between his legs, a small patch of grass surrounded the area along with a variety of wild flowers. They watched the slow transition between dusk and twilight in silence. Jesse’s arms laid around the archer’s shoulders.

 

“You’re almost there, darlin’. I know yer tired but, I believe you got this.”

 

“What does await for me at the end of the road, I wonder?” the archer inquired, eyes set upon the glimmering sea.

 

“I don’t know pumpkin, and that’s the scary part.”

 

“Why do you think so?” the archer inquired as he burrowed himself further into the warm embrace.

 

“Because I’ve seen that look in yer eyes that means you’re willin’ to do whatever it takes,” the cowboy laid a short kiss over the crown of Hanzo’s head. “I don’t want to lose ya.”

 

“Sometimes we do not have much of a choice.”

 

“Promise me that you’ll try to come back in one piece.”

 

Hanzo sighed, “I cannot guarant-”

 

As it had happened more than once before, Jesse moved quickly and in the blink of an eye he laid a kiss over Hanzo’s lips silencing the archer.

 

“Promise me. _Please.”_ he begged as he took the archer’s face between both of his hands. Behind them, the ribbon that tied Hanzo’s hair moved with the wind. The yellow silk capturing the golden glow of the setting sun.

 

“I promise.”

 

“That’s better.” the cowboy paused, then gave Hanzo one last kiss. “Thank you.”

 

After the kiss, the shadows had surrounded McCree once again. Suddenly there were voices in the distance and yet there was only a single thing he could think of, _the string._

 

It was there.

 

_But why?_

 

He had one.

 

_How?_

 

After all these years he could see one, but…

 

Was the other end tied to hanzo’s hand?

 

He needed to find his archer, he needed answers.

 

Or perhaps he had them already, only thing was that he could not remember the answers themselves; but he probably would once he had found Hanzo.

 

If he ever found him again

 

There were new voices as well. At first he could not tell them apart for they were a convoluted mess but given a few moments he was able to understand what they were saying. They called his name, but also said more.

 

 _“Jesse McCree.”_ one said.

 

 _“Young Master.”_ the other one called.

 

And in his head there was only one name echoing:

 

Hanzo.

 

Hanzo.

 

_Hanzo…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by.


	14. Asunder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _(Edited on: 1-04-2018. Corrected a few grammar errors and added some extra parts to a couple of conversations to make them flow better.)_
> 
> I apologize for the long wait on this chapter.  
> Things have been difficult lately in here. My dog passed away after he suffered a relapse, then writer's block took over and then depression alongside with anxiety made everything even worse.
> 
> I do hope you enjoy this chapter, and hopefully there aren't too many grammatical errors in this one.
> 
> Thank you all for your patience and I am sorry for the long wait.
> 
>  
> 
> _The songs that helped me write this chapter were:_  
>  The World We Knew by Frank Sinatra  
> Wish That You Were Here by Florence + The Machine  
> Johnny Guitar by Peggy Lee

* * *

 

_Sojiro paced from one side of his office to the other, while Hanzo was sitting in front of the wooden desk that was located near the eastern window. He could tell that his father was tense and enraged to a degree. The archer expected harsh words from the elder Shimada, and was more than aware of what would be said._

__

_How he had a responsibility to the clan. How Jesse was unfit to be with him._

_He knew all that Sojiro would say._

_Yet, he desired to hear none of those words. The bright rays of sunlight that came though the glass windows did not manage to bring any warmth to Hanzo’s body. In fact, as time went by, he felt colder and colder as dread pooled within his chest._

__

_"He is a dog and I will not allow you to sully our name by being with him, whether he is your soulmate or not. I will see your bond cut to shreds before I allow that to happen." The leader of the Shimada clan stated. His voice leveled and slightly tinged with venom broke the uneasy silent atmosphere that had filled the room. He knew of his son’s escapades and he did not stop any of them in hopes that by providing Hanzo with some semblance of freedom he would be more pliant in the near future._

_Same as it is done with a firefly that is tied to a string._

__

_It can fly, but not too far away, for it would render its body into two pieces if it dared to try and escape._

_Hanzo felt just as trapped._

_"Father how can you say that?"_

__

_The archer tried to keep his voice cordial and his emotions in check. He knew that whatever his father had to say would be mostly to try to get the best of him, and he could not allow that to happen._

_"Do you fail to see it my son? Are you unable to see how low you would come to fall if you go with him?"_

__

_"I..."_

_"Do you not wish for the Shimada clan to reach glory?"_

_There it was. One of the usual topics that came up whenever Hanzo’s behavior was frowned upon. His duty towards the clan was often used to silence the archer in most situations, the simple reminder of his responsibilities always served as a means to dissuade Hanzo from thinking about nothing else but the clan._

_"There must be another way father." the archer retorted, his back becoming stiff and his hands forming into fists._

__

_"There is not." he heard Sojiro’s harsh reply, "Besides, he is to be be leaving soon. Or am I mistaken?"_

__

_Hanzo nodded stiffly in response. He was more than aware of that fact and yet he refused to face it. Jesse was departing soon and Hanzo would simply stay with his family because it was the right thing to do._

_It was after all, his fate._

_Wasn’t it?_

_"He has nothing to offer you, my son."_

__

_"B-but... he does." the heir muttered._

_“What can he possibly give you? Love and affection?” his father mocked. “Love is for the weak.” Sojiro spat. "And your are not a weakling, for a Shimada is never to be weak. Or am I also mistaken in that regard as well, Hanzo?"_

_Hanzo remained silent._

_Sojiro smirked, his impassive expression was replaced with that of a fox, "I fail to see any more reasons for him to want be with you any longer. After all, the American already had his fun with you, there is no reason for him to remain by your side."_

_The elder Shimada was a man that saw life as a game of chess, and he expected all the pieces on the board to fall over whenever he wished them to. Making his son doubt was a good way to manipulate him even more._

__

_"He is my soulmate!" the archer spoke up, his body completely tense. The room seemed to shrink as he raised his voice in Jesse’s defense._

_"Do you truly believe that some wishes written on cheap paper can actually lead you to happiness? That they can grant you a future?” his father had moved to stand beside the chair that the archer was occupying. The elder Shimada’s voice held an exasperated tone._

_"I..." his throat clogged up on that moment._

_"You what Hanzo?"_

__

_"It is my fate to be with him. I will leave the clan and all of this behind if I must." Hanzo declared, his voice firm and full of determination._

_He didn't see the back-handed slap coming. The noise echoed loudly within the confines of the spacious office._

_"Do not defy me Hanzo. You may be my son, but I am still the leader of this clan first and foremost." he pointed a finger at the archer, face slightly contorted with anger._

__

_"But indeed how could I have forgotten that..." Sojiro paused, he acted as if nothing had happened at all. "If he dares to try and steal you away or if you set foot out of this country, I will personally see him tortured and killed and you," he stared down at Hanzo. The young archer’s face was nearly unreadable as he tried to conceal all of his emotions. "You will be hunted down and dragged back here if necessary."_

_Hanzo remained silent as he cradled his reddening face with one of his hands. Some of his hair had fallen out of his ponytail and was covering the side that had been hit. The yellow silken ribbon that Jesse gifted him was tied to his hair, the bright fabric was catching some of the sunlight that was filtering through the window._

 

_"You are the heir of this clan whether you like it or not." He stated. His voice was once more low and leveled, as if nothing had happened mere moments ago, as if he hadn’t threatened both Hanzo and his soulmate in the same breath. "I only wish to see you become the leader you were raised to be.”_

__

_Hanzo’s father spoke with all the detachment that a self-entitled and overly powerful man could ever muster. The pride in his voice and the barely disguised threats all entangled in every sentence he voiced out._

_Hanzo only hoped to never become like his father._

__

_A man who like so many of the previous past leaders of the clan had cut his thread of fate with the help of the dragons in an ancient ritual in order to avoid forming any sort of attachments. The archer had heard plenty of said practice. How it left the person almost completely hollow._

_He had vowed in his childhood to never become that._

__

_But the way things were at that precise moment, it seemed he would be forced to go through with it after all._

_Would he be able to live without Jesse in his life?_

_Would he be able to forget all he had lived so far alongside the cowboy?_

__

_The archer believed he could never forget any of it, whether his thread was cut or not. Jesse was his soulmate and after having shared so many experiences together in the short time they have been with one another it would be impossible to forget any of it._

_It would be impossible to erase Jesse from his memory._

_“How can you even consider sacrificing all that you have attained just to be with a mangy street dog who has nothing to offer you?" Hanzo was brought out of his reverie by his father’s sudden question._

__

_Hanzo remained silent still, the side of his face that had been struck began to swell and a small sliver of blood flowed from between his lips. He was biting down his tongue._

_"In time you will come to see things my way." the elder Shimada sighed. His words took a condescending tone that irked Hanzo to no end. "He is nothing but dirt unfit to kiss the soles of your shoes, and you are a prince my son. Act as such."_

_Sojiro tried to reach for Hanzo's shoulder but the archer stood up from the chair before the elder Shimada’s hand could touch him, then backed away in a swift motion and in an instant Hanzo ran out of the office. His father’s voice fading in the distance._

__

_Unaware of it, Hanzo had forgotten once more to read the paper that Jesse had given him a couple of nights before. He hadn’t been able able to see the cowboy after the festival nor the day that followed after it._

_Hanzo felt trapped and exhausted. The archer felt cold as well, even though it was the middle of summer. He chose to train on that moment. The most rigorous routine he could muster._

_He needed to forget. He needed to become stronger._

_They would never take Jesse from him, he was not going to allow it._

__

_They were not going to cut his string of fate either. This was his life, and he was the only one who could choose how to live it._

_He needed to get away from everything._

_He needed to become stronger for both Jesse’s and his own sake._

_“There must be another way.” he kept on repeating over and over, those words became a mantra to him and they fueled his resolve. Sweat pooled over the wooden floor as the Shimada heir took one swing after the other with his sword, the straw dummy falling to pieces with each hit._

__

_His frustration dwindled after a few hours, but still he continued._

_He trained until he collapsed due to exhaustion._

_“I cannot be weak.” he whispered as he tried to gulp for more air, the sword slipped from his trembling hand as his knees gave out._

_On the floor, the string of fate glowed with intensity. As if the fates themselves were mocking him._

__

_Then he simply closed his eyes and allowed unconsciousness to grant him some respite._

__

* * *

__

As Hanzo slowly opened his eyes he wondered how could his life had been if he had gone with Jesse... if he had read that paper and given an answer to his soulmate's plea.

 

If only he had been stronger and more determined, things could have definitely turned out to be different.

 

But how so?

 

The archer blinked several times and took in the sight before him, for he could not afford to waste any more time on things that had already come to pass. The world they both knew and shared when they were younger was long gone, instead replaced by never ending battles and uncertainty as to what the future would bring.

 

Those days when they spoke sweet nothings at each other would never return, Hanzo was more than aware of that fact. Even though such memories were sometimes all that he had to keep him going when he was traveling around the world, for they made him feel less lonely.

 

Even if it was a mere illusion.

 

After forcing himself to concentrate, the archer took in his surroundings, he was aware that the place where he had appeared was one of the numerous crew quarters within the watchpoint itself. Said room was similar in its layout to Hanzo’s own, yet the differences were quite vast.

 

The first thing that Hanzo took notice of was the window sill. It was lined with succulents, all of them of different sizes and shades. His eyes then wandered over until his stare landed upon the red serape that had been thrown haphazardly over one chair that rested beside a small wooden table. Said piece of furniture had a half empty bottle of bourbon on top of it and an overflowing ashtray beside it.

 

A standing lamp was on the far corner, the bright light that it was emitting engulfed the room in shades of gold.

 

“You look like you’re about to drop dead, darlin’.”

 

The cowboy’s smooth voice took Hanzo by surprise, yet he blamed his current distracted state to his exhaustion.

 

Hanzo turned around slowly to find Jesse sitting cross-legged over the small bed. The cowboy was wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of faded gray sweatpants, his Stetson was resting by his side and he was holding some photographs.

 

“Why don’t you take a seat?” Jesse offered, but before the archer was able to give an answer the cowboy took it upon himself to guide Hanzo towards the bed. The archer was more than grateful for it as well, for he felt how the strain he was under in order to continue looking for Jesse was taking a toll on him.

 

Everything would be coming to an end quite soon and Hanzo felt both relieved and saddened by that. On one side it meant that Jesse would be waking up promptly but on the other, it meant that those were the last moments he got to share alongside the gunslinger.

 

Hanzo wanted to make each second count. He wanted to see every smile that Jesse could muster, hear every laugh and feel every single embrace that his cowboy could offer him.

 

He wanted Jesse _, his Jesse_ , to have a good set of memories of the last moments he shared with him. Hanzo wanted McCree to remember him for who he truly was.

 

He wanted Jesse to have something to look back to, and be happy for it.

 

Because sometimes those are the only thing that a person can have to keep them going. Simple old memories that with time would fade away.

 

And perhaps Jesse simply wanted Hanzo for who he was in his teenager years. Maybe in the end, after the cowboy woke up he would be better off without Hanzo tied up to him by the string of fate, and yet the archer yearned to leave something good for Jesse to remember him by.

 

His sacrifice would probably hold no value to anybody for he was merely saving one of Overwatch finest agents. In his book, Hanzo often considered himself as an expendable asset, but a man was his actions and he was also all that he had done. Others would judge his life but Jesse was the only one who would be able to judge Hanzo’s final actions for he chose to give his life in exchange for Jesse’s own.

 

In the end, he had followed his _heart_.

 

The only one who had ever seen Hanzo bare his heart had been Jesse.

 

For the archer, it was the right thing to do. Even if in the end he felt the same sort of loneliness that was engulfing him when he and McCree said goodbye to each other all of those years ago.

 

At least he got to share a few more moments with his cowboy.

 

Even if he would think of it as a simple dream, Jesse would remember the world they both knew and shared once upon a summer that was now long gone. That world where they had loved each other as if there had been no one else but them.

 

In a few seconds both men were sitting in close proximity over the lumpy old mattress, and Hanzo was determined to enjoy at least these few minutes with Jesse, for he could feel that he was near the end of the rope.

 

McCree’s voice brought the archer out of his train of thought.

 

“Remember when we took these?” the gunslinger inquired as he showed Hanzo the grayscale photographs that they took all of those years ago in that summer festival. The cowboy’s copies of said photos had been laminated in plastic and Hanzo smiled at the old sentimental note that the simple action evoked within him.

 

Such a simple thing and yet, it held great meaning.

 

“Of course I remember.” he nodded, “It was an unforgettable night.”

 

“Which one’s your favorite?”

 

The question caught the archer by surprise, the string of fate glowed brightly between them as Hanzo’s heart rate increased at the same time that Jesse’s smile became wider.

 

“So, which one is it?” the cowboy inquired once more, effectively breaking the silent spell that had befallen upon them.

 

“Ah, it is this one.” the archer reached over and pointed at the photo that featured both of them smiling softly and staring into each other’s eyes. It had always been Hanzo’s favorite out of the four pictures, for the moment it depicted was one that never failed to make him feel a pleasant warmth spreading within his chest. Those images had been an anchor for the archer whenever he felt lost, they always managed to make Hanzo evoke a gentle smile whenever he stared at his own set of copies of the photographs.

 

“Huh, yeah. We’re real cute in that one.” the cowboy commented, and Hanzo noticed the smile adorning Jesse’s face. The archer saw it as a precious gift from the gods to be able to witness it once more.

 

“I do think so as well.” Hanzo commented, a short lived smile adorned the archer’s lips. He recalled that night as if it had been yesterday. The vivid colors, the music...

 

Jesse’s hand holding his own.

 

“My personal favorite is this one.” Jesse spoke in a low tone. A peaceful quietness had befallen between them after that.

 

The gunslinger showed Hanzo the photograph where they shared a kiss. Those palm days of yesterday were long gone, in their place the hazy present and uncertain future remained and yet Hanzo wanted them to return.

 

“It’s the photo I always looked at whenever I wished you were right by my side.” Jesse whispered as he traced Hanzo’s face over the grayscale picture with the tip of his index finger. “You’re always on my mind darlin’.”

 

Hanzo was speechless.

 

The archer had never really expected to hear words as such from anyone, _ever_. And yet here it was, Jesse’s subconscious reflection telling him the words he had always yearned to hear from his soulmate.

 

They could be very well a mere reflection of a passing thought or a reaction to Hanzo’s presence, but somehow they seemed truly heartfelt and filled with love.

 

The archer was not truly sure if he was supposed to comment upon Jesse’s choice of words or if he should be questioning the sincerity of that statement, before he could Jesse interrupted him.

 

“I’m glad you’re here.” he laid the pictures over the nightstand and took a hold of Hanzo’s left hand. “I was thinkin’ about going to see you since we got an important mission tomorrow and all that.”

 

That was it.

 

That was the night previous to their last mission.

 

The night before he almost lost Jesse.

 

That was where Hanzo was.

 

“Why are you still awake?” the archer inquired, and the worried expression that crossed over the cowboy’s face did not go unnoticed.

 

“I can’t seem to fall asleep darlin’.” the analog clock that was hanging upon the far wall indicated that the time was past two in the morning, at that time the archer had been awake as well. Such restlessness had taken Hanzo to the practice room after midnight, then he had wandered toward the kitchen in order to make himself some tea.

 

The clock showing the current time was a new addition to the memories, for Hanzo had never seen another device showing the time in any other of the fragments before. This moment was probably quite important.

 

But _why_?

 

Both sat in bed unmoving and Hanzo pondered if this would have been what could have happened if he had so chosen to look for Jesse that night before the mission. Jesse had been unable to fall asleep too and the archer wanted to know the reason for that.

 

“What troubles your mind so that is preventing you from falling asleep?”

 

“I just have this weird feelin’ in my gut.” McCree huffed, his eyebrows creased as he felt frustration building up once more. “It feels almost the same as to when I lost my arm. A sense that something’s gonna go wrong but I don’t know what it is.”

 

“I see.” The archer nodded slowly, his eyes once more laded upon the analog clock over the wall, the needles were then set to a quarter to three in the morning.

 

This was the night previous to the operation in the abandoned Vishkar facility. At that same hour the archer had been awake in bed, unable to fall asleep and deeply troubled.

 

“I hate bein’ uncertain when it comes to missions, you know?” the cowboy explained, gaining Hanzo’s attention once more. “In Blackwatch we planned for every possible worst case scenario that we could come across on our missions, and yet here I am gettin’ worked up over a hunch.”

 

“It is understandable that you feel frustrated, for charging into the unknown is often a reason to fear.” the archer added.

 

“Well, I can’t really stop the mission from happening because I’m gettin’ the heebie-jeebies.” the cowboy shrugged yet he looked deeply worried still.

 

Hanzo cursed inwardly, for that had been the same way of thinking he had previous to the mission. He believed that the ominous feeling that told him that something would go wrong should not be paid too much heed, for it could not be stopped from happening. Yet the frustration of it all had brought upon desperation as well, for by not knowing what was going to happen the archer tried to overlook all of it until it was too late.

 

Hanzo had foolishly believed that it was going to be he himself the one that was to fall in that mission and he had accepted it even.

 

The fates showed him different.

 

 _‘One can only be ready to face the consequences.’_ Hanzo thought.

 

“Wanna come to the kitchen with me?” Jesse inquired. His words brought Hanzo out of his dreadful train of thought, “Gettin’ some coffee might help.”

 

“Of course.” the archer accepted the hand that McCree offered with a smile. “Lead the way.”

 

The corridors within the watchpoint were as the archer had expected, completely devoid of any other people except from him and Jesse. The cowboy was yet to let go of Hanzo’s hand and by the looks of it seemed that he was not about to do so anytime soon.

 

Late autumn brought with it a cold wind that seeped into the place, Hanzo enjoyed it so, for he had always considered that autumn was quite a beautiful season.

 

Upon their arrival to the kitchen, Jesse promptly began to brew himself some coffee after making sure to offer some tea to Hanzo as well. The archer had declined and simply sat down on one chair that was near the corner. He felt exhaustion taking a hold over him once more.

 

He needed to get all of this over soon.

 

“You know why I’m awake darlin’, but you haven’t told me why you’re here instead of sleeping.” the string was on the floor glowing with more intensity than Hanzo could recall. His eyes were transfixed upon it for the longest time as he pondered over his possible answer.

 

Should he give a straightforward reply as to why he was awake at that hour knowing that they would be deployed early in the morning?

 

“I am… worried.” he simply said. He had hesitated and he was more than aware that Jesse took notice.

 

As the cowboy took a mug and filled it with his brewed coffee, the room was quiet once more. Both men silent and almost completely still.

 

The smell of the coffee brought a strange sense of comfort to Hanzo, for he had come to familiarize the aroma of that drink with the cowboy. It reminded him of Jesse in the mornings even though he often avoided the kitchen at the hours of more traffic, he knew that McCree was one the first ones to wander towards the kitchen to fix himself some much needed coffee and the smell often traveled all over the place.

 

It had always been distracting to Hanzo.

 

Even back when he met Jesse for the first time in Hanamura, the young man had been quite an avid coffee drinker and had offered some to Hanzo in several occasions, but the archer had often declined for the strong flavor that the beverage featured had never been to his liking.

 

* * *

__

_“Would ya like some darlin’?” Jesse offered as he waved his foam cup in front of the Shimada heir._

_“No, thank you.” Hanzo replied curtly as he took a bite from the cupcake that Jesse had gifted him. He had never been a fan of coffee, the smell was fine but in regards of the flavor, he had never favored it so._

__

_They were in a park. The last rays of sun were quickly receding under the horizon, as both young men walked alongside one another hand in hand without any destination in mind. They were simply enjoying each other’s company, as they had done so for the last three weeks._

_They had escaped the Shimada castle with the help of one of Genji’s well placed pranks. It had given them both enough time to get away from the premises without anyone taking notice of their absence._

_Or so they believed._

__

_That was how they found themselves walking around after having visited a small coffee shop._

_“There was this diner that was in Deadlock gorge.” he chuckled, “The coffee in there always tasted like boiled dirt. But there was nothin’ better around, so I kept going back. ” the cowboy said, his expression giving away contained mirth._

__

_“Why would you even do that?” the archer inquired bewildered. At that, the gunslinger laughed._

_“Because beggars can’t be choosers, honeybee.” he retorted as he finished the last of his drink._

_“That is quite a silly reason.”_

__

_“Well yeah, it is.” Jesse shrugged and so did Hanzo._

_They stopped in their tracks, stared at one another, and then they were both laughing uncontrollably._

_“Darlin’ that was the cutest thing ever, as if we were synchronized or somethin’.”_

_Hanzo stopped breathing for a moment, heart beating fast within his chest. His eyes transfixed upon the string of fate. Of course that these things took time but the signs were there. Two halves of a whole, that was what they were._

__

_Made for one another._

_Fated to be together, even if circumstances were to separate them, they would always drift back together._

_But why was Jesse unable to see the string?_

_Hanzo had been tearing the library of the Shimada castle apart for days looking for an answer, but so far he had found none. Why did Jesse not see the thread? They had already found each other, shouldn’t that be enough?_

_It is said that the string only appears to both soulmates when it is their due time, yet the Shimada heir wanted nothing more than to tell the cowboy about it._

_The archer wanted to tell Jesse that they were connected, that he should not worry about Hanzo being fated to be with someone else for he was already tied to the cowboy._

_Yet he could not._

_For he feared McCree’s reaction to it all. For it was not the same being in a willing and free relationship than to be tied by the fates._

_What if by doing so, all that Jesse would end up feeling towards him was to be simple feelings of duty and obligation? What if he would merely end up feeling trapped and simply compelled to be with Hanzo because they were tied to each other?_

_On that moment the archer felt ill._

_Could the fates be so cruel?_

_Hanzo brought his arms around Jesse’s shoulders after a moment of silence. His embrace more forceful than usual, for he feared that the cowboy would fade away. Jesse brought his arms around the archer’s waist then kissed Hanzo’s cheek knowing he did not like the flavor of coffee._

_“Darlin’? what’s wrong?” the worry etched in the cowboy’s voice tone made Hanzo’s heart twist with sadness._

_“It is nothing. I simply felt the desire to embrace you.”_

_Hanzo kissed him on the lips, the lingering sweetness of the cupcake overcame the flavor of the coffee._

_‘I do not want to lose you.’ the archer though as he felt Jesse tightening his embrace as well._

_“You’re not gonna lose me.” the cowboy whispered as the veil of twilight engulfed the park._

_“But I do feel as if you were to going to fade away from my embrace.” Hanzo spoke quietly. Above them, the stars were already filling the darkening sky with their gleam._

_Between their entwined hands, the thread of fate glowed brightly._

__

__

* * *

 

“Hanzo?”

 

The archer felt a hand shaking his shoulder, Jesse’s voice was calling his name as well.

 

“Hanzo? Hey, ya got lost in thought there.”

 

“My apologies.” the Shimada heir stood up suddenly, “I was thinking about the mission we will be undertaking tomorrow.” he lied.

 

“Nothin’ to be done about them bad vibes, and I’m done with the coffee so,” the cowboy paused, a hint of hesitation crossed over his mind. “Would you like to… to accompany me tonight?”

 

Silence fell between them, the kitchen seemed smaller somehow.

 

“Ya don’t have to but, I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

 

“It would be my pleasure.” Hanzo replied, a smile etched upon his lips.

 

“Thank you darlin’.” the cowboy said as he took Hanzo’s hand in his own, a bright smile adorned his tired face. The archer stared at Jesse for the longest time.

 

In all of those years that they had been apart, he had missed his cowboy so.

 

His smiles and his way of carrying himself. He hadn’t changed that much either.

 

Hanzo closed his eyes as he felt Jesse’s lips upon his cheek.

 

“I know ya don’t like the flavor of coffee.”

 

“Indeed, but I could get accustomed to it.” the archer retorted then placed a chaste kiss upon the cowboy’s lips.

 

“I guess after ya get enough kisses you could actually get _used_ to it. Then you realize it ain’t _that_  bad after all.” McCree joked as they made their way back to the cowboy’s quarters and that earned him a loud bout of laughter from the archer’s part.

 

Is that how it could have been if they had been in contact with each other in the waking world? Hanzo wondered.

 

Would they had simply interacted as easily as they were on that exact moment?

 

Hanzo felt sadness taking a hold of him once more.

 

They had wasted so much time.

 

The way back to McCree’s quarters had been filled with laughter and light banter between them. As they stood by the door Hanzo stared at the thread of fate, the once faint light it once emitted was a far cry from what it was on that moment. The red color it featured was bright and in some moments there was a slight golden glow over it as well. But it was gone as soon as it came.

 

The archer had never noticed that before, it must have been a new development.

 

Hanzo was glad to see the brightness return to the string nonetheless.

 

Even if the cowboy was yet to see it, he was happy enough for them both.

 

Upon their entrance to the room Jesse simply took off his shoes, turned off the lights and guided Hanzo toward the bed.

 

“We gotta try and get some shut eye.” the cowboy explained as he tried to lay down right beside the archer, but then came to the conclusion that bed was not big enough for both of them to be side by side, so McCree laid Hanzo over his chest and brought his arms around the archer’s waist.

 

“Comfy?” Hanzo burrowed his head between the cowboy’s neck and shoulder. He drew his lips close to Jesse’s pulse and then laid a soft kiss upon the warm skin.

 

“Yes, I am comfortable.” he whispered in response, then felt how McCree was drawing circles over his back.

 

“Sleep Jesse, I will watch over you.” he whispered. The cowboy’s breathing pattern was becoming steadier as Hanzo began running his fingers over Jesse’s chest, the steady heartbeat underneath was like a lullaby to the archer.

 

“You’ll be stayin’ with me the whole night?” Jesse mumbled as he felt sleep clouding his reasoning thus making his speech rather sluggish.

 

“I will be here with you for as long as you wish for it to be so.” Hanzo promised.

 

“Can it be forever?” the cowboy asked and at the same time his hold over Hanzo tightened. The simple question caused the archer's chest to constrict, his heart felt heavy. A few seconds later Hanzo felt tears forming in his eyes, for he so wished for it to be so as well. To stay forever with his soulmate and share it all. The good and the bad, sadness and happiness.

 

To be together through thick and thin.

 

They had promised to be __‘_ together forever’ _so many times when they had been young that back then it did not even seemed an impossible thing to attain. Hanzo was sure they would be together for they were tied by the string, and Jesse simply because he cherished Hanzo as much as a sunflower treasures the sun.

 

“I wish it could be so.” Hanzo whispered in response. His sadness began to overtake him completely and slowly so, tears began to slide down his face. The crystalline drops fell upon the cowboy’s neck. “But I can not stay for long.”

 

Then, the archer broke down.

 

This was going to be his forever and ever. This was it.

 

The last set of happy memories with Jesse. A simple made up encounter produced by the cowboy’s subconscious would be the last thing the archer would experience that would grant him any happiness.

 

Hanzo wanted it to be different, for it all to be something else and yet he knew this was it.

 

He could not stop new tears from streaming down his face, and the moment he felt Jesse trying to comfort him he felt the full weight of his despair and sadness fall upon his shoulders.

 

He heard Jesse whispering sweet nothings to him but his voice seemed so far away as it was slightly drowned by Hanzo’s sobs.

 

“I am sorry.” the archer whispered. “I am so sorry, for everything.”

 

He was sorry for not being enough. For not trying hard enough. For having failed Jesse.

 

For being so weak.

 

His father had been right all along, he was weak.

 

“Don’t be sorry my darlin’.” he heard as the cowboy murmured, “Everything’s gonna be fine, just fine. Come hell or high water I know it will.”

 

There was a moment of hesitation before Hanzo laid his hand over Jesse’s chest, still he did so and the steady heartbeat made him feel better; for all that he had done so far would be worth it in the end after Jesse woke up.

 

“I wonder if my presence would ever make a difference…” Hanzo mumbled, in the distance he could hear the waves of the nearby sea crashing upon the rocks.

 

“Darlin’… _my darlin’,_ I’m glad to have you here, no matter how short that time may be.” Hanzo was lifted by Jesse, who was holding onto him as he propped both of them up on the bed so that they could be on a sitting position. “Even if you have to leave, I know it ain’t for long.”

 

Hanzo felt the cowboy kissing his forehead delicately, as if the archer was made of crystal. “We’ll always find each other.” Jesse added as his hands wiped the archer’s tears. “I love you and I hope you’ll always remember that. No matter the distance or the time we’ve been apart.” he sighed, “I love you Hanzo, always have and I’ll always will.”

 

Hanzo had remained silent for a few moments before he replied. He was overwhelmed as he heard the confession leaving the cowboy’s mouth.

 

“I love you too, Jesse.” he replied without thinking. "I do hope that you never forget that."

 

 _'Never forget me.'_ was left unsaid.

 

Both men remained in relative silence until the archer broke the peaceful atmosphere.

 

“I want you to know that I will be with you for as long as you remember me.” Hanzo whispered as he laid a soft kiss over the cowboy’s forehead in return. He then embraced Jesse with all the strength he could muster as he felt everything going dark once more. He hoped Jesse would be able to recall those words upon his awakening.

 

Would Jesse remember those words after Hanzo was gone as well?

 

Only time could tell.

 

“I don’t want you to go, but I understand that you have to.” the cowboy whispered in the dark.

 

Hanzo felt something pulling at his left hand as he closed his eyes.

 

“This ain’t goodbye.” he heard Jesse in the distance, his words becoming a faint echo.

 

The archer blinked a few times, in front of him there was once more the abandoned Vishkar building. A sense of foreboding fell upon him, the warmth he had felt as he had laid in bed with Jesse had left him completely, instead a cold dread had taken over his body.

 

Hanzo steeled himself and walked in.

 

It was time to face the end of his journey, for everything must reach a conclusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!


	15. Echo of a Fading Eulogy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long!  
> My old laptop, (that was 8 years old) broke down and I had to gather my savings to buy a second hand laptop...
> 
> I sincerely apologize for the long wait. (I tried writing the chapter on the phone but it was not the same...) also apologies beforehand for any misspellings that you may find. 
> 
> (On a small side note, there's now two more chapters left to go.)
> 
> And as always, thank you very much for all the kudos and comments!
> 
> _Songs to listen to while reading this chapter:  
>  Somewhere by Within Temptation  
> Never Alone by Barlow Girl  
> Blind by Placebo_

* * *

 

_Hanzo had received a note the day before the Overwatch team was to depart. It was short and to the point, depicting Jesse’s careful calligraphy. The blocky writing brought a smile to his face for he knew that the cowboy took his time whenever he made any notes so that his letters were legible._

 

**| ‘I’ll wait for you under our tree at seven O'clock tonight. _’_ | **

**| _J.M._  | **

 

_The Shimada heir had stepped carefully into the garden as the light of dusk was replaced by the shadows of the early evening. Hanzo had moved silently in order to not alert the guards. And true to his promise, Jesse had awaited for the archer under the same tree that he was usually found reading poetry. The cowboy was standing with his back turned to him and seemingly deep in thought._

 

_“Been waitin’ on you for a while now, honeybee.” Jesse joked as he began to spin around slowly, having obviously noticed the approaching young man._

 

_“Surely the whole minute you  had to wait for me was more than worth it?” the archer retorted as a small laugh followed his words._

 

_“You know it, darlin'.” he announced as he moved closer to Hanzo and wrapped his arms around the archer's waist, “I'll wait for you an eternity if I have to.”_

 

_Both young men wondered if they would ever be together in the years to come and as the night passed, doubt took root within their hearts, for their future was uncertain and apparently quite hopeless as well._

 

_They promised time and time again to find one another while the stars shone overhead as the only witnesses of their vows; the fireflies traced green lines of light around them. Kisses intermingled with promises and sweet nothings whispered as they made love for the last time under the stars. Hanzo’s hair was loose and mixing with the green grass that served as their bed and Jesse threaded his fingers gently through the archer's dark mane._

 

_“At some moments I feel that even if I am close to you, it seems that you still are so very far.” the archer murmured, the thread connected them, but in Hanzo's case it was a one sided connection since the only one that was aware of it was the archer._

 

_Was their relationship any less for being a dormant link of the string of fate?_

 

_Hanzo's doubt often clouded his judgment, but he never truly voiced out such concerns._

 

_“I'm here, and I'll always be.” Jesse whispered as he gathered Hanzo in his embrace. Both of them sleepy and spent from their previous activities._

 

_They both fell into a deep slumber as they were laid in each other's arms, both tangled in a tight embrace for even in their sleep they feared to let go. The stars still shone brightly all over the darkened summer sky, and the fireflies surrounded them with their eternal dance of threaded jade coloured light._

 

_Jesse was the first one to awaken a few hours later, whilst Hanzo was still between being dormant and completely awake. The archer stirred slowly as he felt his hand being pulled to the side, then soft kisses were laid onto each one of his knuckles. He wished to never have to live without such small yet precious shows of affection._

 

_It took Hanzo a moment to find himself opening his eyes, but when he did he found his left hand tied up to Jesse's right by using the archer's golden ribbon that he usually wore in his hair._

 

_He had always found the contrast between their skins to be beautiful, even in the scarce light that the garden provided at that late hour._

 

_As the Shimada heir took notice as to what McCree had done, he simply laughed softly._

 

_“In ancient cultures people who did this,” the archer pointed at their joined hands, “were deemed as married.”_

 

_“Ah, yeah. I remember readin' something like that somewhere.” the cowboy nodded along with his words, then added quietly, “I do.”_

 

_“I could not hear what you said, could you please repeat it?”_

 

_“I do.” the cowboy said out loud. “I'll gladly marry you twice if I could.” Jesse gave Hanzo's neck a light kiss after he voiced such words. “We don't need any priests or any lawyers or anythin' of the sort, we just need each other to be married.”_

 

_The archer remained silent as he noticed that Jesse seemed to be wanting to say something else but he did not voiced it out._

 

_“I would be honored.” the archer said a few heartbeats later._

 

_“Then that's it. We're married now.” the cowboy declared, effectively eliciting a smile from the archer. “And our witnesses are this tree, the stars and the fireflies.” he pointed out._

 

_“Quite the retinue, I must say.”_

 

_“Well, I just married a prince,” McCree voiced out enthusiastically. “we needed a good amount of them witnesses, honeybee.”_

 

_It could have been a childish game or a set of words with truth intermingled in them. Hanzo hoped for the latter even if it was too early int heir relationship to be considering such a concept, would it be too selfish of him to wish to be married to his own soulmate?_

 

_But what if Jesse was merely jesting about it?_

 

_What if it was just a small game for him?_

 

_A few moments later Jesse took Hanzo in his arms and spun him around, effectively taking the archer's mind out of his inner turmoil, in response Hanzo disentangled his hand from the silken ribbon and took Jesse's face between both of his hands and kissed the tip of the cowboy's nose._

 

_“Don't you go thinkin' so much, honeybee.”_

 

_They both smiled at the gunslinger's words then shared a short kiss before letting go of each other. The cowboy had to depart for the hour was late and if he tarried for longer, he risked being discovered. They shared one last kiss after promising to see each other before Jesse had to depart._

 

_“Han... I... uh...” the words eluded the cowboy on that moment and noticing the hesitation Hanzo moved even closer still, even though that seemed not to be possible._

 

_“Yes, Jesse?”_

 

_“I...” the gunslinger paused, then sighed loudly as if he was frustrated with himself. “I'll tell you later.”_

 

_“I will hold you to that promise then.” the archer replied, “Anything you need to say is important to me and I would like to hear it.”_

 

_It was quite dark still and as the hours passed, the moment in which Jesse was to leave the premises of the Shimada castle grew near. In silence, both young men finished dressing up and said their goodbyes knowing that the next time they saw each other would be the last in a very long time._

 

_If ever again._

 

 

* * *

 

 

The air that surrounded the building seemed stale and filled the space with a sense of dread. Terrible things had happened within those walls and Jesse’s memory reacted to such accordingly.

 

Hanzo moved slowly toward the main entrance as if he was a man walking to the gallows, resigned and ready to face his untimely death. The archer could hear nothing in the surrounding area as the heavy metal doors opened by their own accord, without giving away even a single noise contrary as to what he had come to expect from the rusted hinges that kept them in place.

 

The place was completely devoid of any signs of life and as Hanzo walked pass the entrance, the main doors closed behind him. He found it strange but then reasoned that since it was the last part of his journey there was little sense on him having a chance to walk away as he considered that he had nothing much to look back to, for he had seen it already and lived through it once again within Jesse’s subconscious.

 

He could not ask for more, for the fates had showed him mercy when they allowed him to undertake the journey to bring Jesse back. He had been given time to share with his soulmate, to allow the soft moments between them to flow as easily as the water that goes down a stream. Hanzo had attained a precious last gift in the form of kisses long overdue and caresses that were as soft as feathers, he was glad for that because after years of loneliness, in his last moments he found love anew; even if had been an illusion, the feelings were all the same for the archer. His heart still fluttered when he laid eyes upon Jesse and his smile never truly faded on those moments either.

 

The eerie ambiance seemed to change the place somehow. The hostile semblance that it held the first time the team landed on the premises was all but gone, in its place there was a strange sense of untold possibilities mixed with sadness. Like a story that never reached a happy finale.

 

He weighted his options. He could either retrace the steps he took on the day of the mission or could directly set himself to find Jesse among the never ending amount of metallic containers and empty wooden crates that littered the place. He could also follow the thread which could be quite a reliable guide, but he was unsure of it.

 

The decision was taken from his hands apparently. For the strange pull that seemed to always begin whenever McCree was nearby had appeared anew. The string glowed brightly and the archer simply began to follow it, for he was sure that after everything he had been through, the thread of fate would not fail him now of all times.

 

All in itself the facility evoked anxiousness within Hanzo’s mind anew, for it reminded him of everything that came to pass on that fateful mission and of how Jesse’s life was in his hands. For better or worse, he had to see this journey through.

 

He took one step after the other, biding his time until facing the inevitable bitter end and silence continued to reign.

 

He recalled Morrison’s orders and how the attack began. A set of flickering lights overhead made him become alert but it was for naught, the place was devoid of any other presence except for his own.

 

Hanzo’s thoughts came to an abrupt end when he found himself standing in front of the place where McCree had been wounded. The metal crates that the cowboy had used as cover were in the exact same place he remembered, but there was only one new addition to the scene. For there, upon the concrete floor was a bloodstain. Hanzo recalled with vivid clarity how the gunslinger had been sitting down with his back supported by a nearby wall, the blood was flowing freely between the gunslinger's fingers.

 

A cold shudder traversed the archer's spine as a set of terrible memories assaulted his mind.

 

Jesse had nearly died right in front of him and there had been nothing he could have done to stop it. Hanzo had begged the gods for more time and for the fates not to cut the thread short, but Jesse was crumpled over the cold unforgiving ground bleeding out and telling Hanzo to smile.

 

And nothing else happened. The gunslinger closed his eyes and all Hanzo could do was beg to every single deity he could recall not to take Jesse away. He had been powerless back then, but now that he could provide help to Jesse by getting him to wake up, he was not going to squander his chance.

 

He had to succeed, no matter what.

 

“Fancy meetin’ you here, darlin’.”

 

The cowboy’s voice brought Hanzo out of his reverie with a start.

 

The archer blinked several times as he expected Jesse to be a mere illusion but he did not in fact fade away, he was standing with his back to Hanzo. His serape and Stetson were all in place, and there was not a single drop of blood over the crimson fabric. Jesse’s boots were covered with a layer of dust and his spurs reflected the light of the lamps overhead.

 

The gunslinger turned around slowly, a big smile adorning his face. “Been waitin’ on you for a while now, honeybee.”

 

the archer had heard those words once before. A long time ago and yet he was more than glad to hear them once more, for they reminded him of better times.

 

Happier times, that although were intermingled with bittersweet moments, he had found joy in them.

 

At least for a short while.

 

 

* * *

 

 

_The archer had returned from the airport in silence. His driver had been quite focused on his task, for it was beyond his station to question why the son of the leader of the clan had red rimmed eyes and a distant look after making his way back from escorting the departing Overwatch team._

 

_Those wooden doors marked with the crest of the Shimada clan that once upon a time offered Hanzo a sense of security, became simply the gates of his gilded cage. Inside there, his father awaited as it did the rest of the clan Elders. All of them more than eager to see Hanzo back into what they considered that was the right path._

 

_As soon as he had set foot within the Shimada estate premises the archer made his way toward the training area and remained there, either shooting arrows or practicing with a sword until late evening. That routine went on for days._

 

_Sojiro had required the presence of his first born in his office several days after the departure of the Overwatch entourage, and as soon as Hanzo stepped inside of the place his father wasted not a single second before he began arranging for the archer’s newest endeavors and training regime._

 

_“It is good to see you finally willing to return to your former self, my son.” the elder Shimada declared halfheartedly, “You have at last recovered your good senses, I presume.”_

 

_Hanzo remained quiet for he knew his father was boasting, it was as if he believed that by simply having McCree out of the picture the archer was going to forget about the string of fate._

 

_“Now that the obstacle has finally disappeared you will go back on track.” the elder Shimada explained, “I see no point in you wasting more time, you are the heir to this clan after all.”_

 

_As his father spoke, Hanzo’s thoughts kept on drifting back to the last night that he and Jesse spent together sharing their last caresses under the veil of night. McCree leaving his red neckerchief and claiming that he would find one another one soon, for no cowboy’s attire was complete without one._

 

_Even though Hanzo had been sad because as much as he wanted it to be, it was not their time yet, he understood that maybe they would get another chance sometime soon; for they were soulmates after all._

 

_Sometimes the thread was a bright scarlet that was as incandescent as the mid-day sun and others it would become as dim as the waning moon, but it never did fade out completely and that gave Hanzo hope._

 

_He dreamed to one day find Jesse McCree again and fulfill his vows._

 

_The archer had walked out of his father’s office after being dismissed, and he had to admit to himself he did not pay attention to a single word that the elder Shimada spoke. And that was more than fine for Hanzo as he had more important things to ponder upon than the clan and his place in it._

 

_At first, Hanzo had been full of hope and even quite content, as he awaited eagerly for the day in which he would hold Jesse in his arms again._

 

_‘That day can not be so far, can it?’ he wondered often as he looked at the glossy photographs and held the red piece of cloth in his hands. The seasons passed and he tried to hold onto that tiny sliver of hope that he refused to let die._

 

_But the archer’s faith began to wane as the weeks became months and subsequently, those long months became years. His hope, which was once a shining beacon that was as bright as a lighthouse in the midst of a heavy fog, became nothing more than a frail candle in the middle of a winter storm and little by little, as the flame flickered with the strong winds, so did his will to continue believing in fairy tales such as the string of fate. Even if he was able to see it tied to his hand, it did not mean by any extent that it would actually be of any use._

 

_But still he waited._

 

_And he held fast to his hope and to his love, as those had been for a very long time, his only solace._

 

_In moments of utter silence, he liked to imagine that Jesse was sitting beside him. Hanzo often spoke of books he had read or new training regimes he had undertook and he visualized Jesse sitting to his right, smiling and nodding in response accordingly. The Shimada heir did that for many years, he figured that it was better than nothing, and he kept on talking about anything and everything to the cowboy's ghost that he held in his memory. McCree always looked bright and happy in his recollections, always ready to smile or tell a tale he once heard. But as time passed, Jesse's memory began fading from Hanzo's mind. The eyes of the cowboy he could not remember too well, neither his smile nor the way his voice used to sound. It all became a fading echo, and as much as he wanted to hold onto his memories, they continued to fade away._

 

_In the middle of a winter storm, as the icy winds ravaged Hanamura, the archer sat near the window within the quiet comfort of his room. Hanzo stared down at the thread of fate over and over, he did not want to let go, he still had hope but then, the flame he held within his heart; the one that kept him going on as he waited until the day he would be free to Join Jesse once more, began to wane._

 

_It was a slow process but in the end, on one dark and cold day of that same winter, the flame gave out, and his hope died along with his heart._

 

_Love became a distant emotion that he would no longer ponder upon. Tears would not return to him what he had lost, and neither would mere wishful thinking._

 

_The archer ignored everything else but his duties, as any diligent son would do in order to please his family. He trained for longer periods of time, got involved in everything that was related to the clan’s business, and when his father died he continued in the same fashion._

 

_After all, Hanzo had a duty to fulfill._

 

_The string of fate glowed still, as if to remind him that there was yet hope for him to be had._

 

_But Hanzo had lost it all. Dreams, aspirations, love and happiness had all deserted him._

 

_So he steeled himself and covered his heart with tempered iron and willed it to be unbroken. He had no soulmate, for the cowboy had probably forgotten about him, and the string in his hand was no guarantee that he would ever return to Jesse’s arms. Still, he had felt each and every little piece of hope as it died within his heart, he had felt how it succumbed slowly as each day passed._

 

_And as he began to reject love within his heart, in its place, ambition took residence._

 

_He was unsure as to how long it took. Perhaps it had been months or maybe even years, yet hearts do not die from one moment to the next, no they do not. They die a slow death that is both agonizing and filled with sorrow. With each harsh word, and with each despicable action, a small piece of one’s heart is lost. Until nothing else is left but the faint memory of a cherished one’s last words that once were the only solace to be found in a sea of loneliness._

 

_And in time, even those words are forgotten as well._

 

_All was lost, but he could not shed any more tears for a Shimada does not cry._

 

_Dragons are fierce and strong._

 

_And he was a dragon. Even if he did not felt like one, the clan Elders had always claimed that he was such._

 

_As time continued its incessant march, Hanzo simply forsook love, for it was a weakness as his father had always said, and willingly walked the path that the Elders had told him to take._

 

_Jesse was not by his side anymore. He had been gone for so long, that Hanzo had forgotten the sound of his laughter and the color of his eyes. The archer accepted it, for there was nothing more that he could do about it. Any attempt at communicating with the cowboy was met with disappointment, so he stopped trying after a while._

 

_Such acceptance and compliance had been his downfall. For the fates and their doings will often bring sorrow upon those who lose all hope. But Hanzo could not care, for he had lost everything after having it for such a short amount of time. He had tasted the sweetest of fruits and in the end, with that last kiss, his body had been paralyzed with a touch of Jesse's lips and Hanzo had wished on that moment for the cowboy's mouth to be coated with poisonous aspic. One last deadly kiss to set him free._

 

_Maybe if he had died on that moment, he would never had come to experience such despair and uncertainty afterwards._

 

_The thread of fate glowed still, but the archer wished for it to be gone. He held the golden silk ribbon in his hand for longer than he should had before he stored it along with the gray-scale photos and Jesse’s red neckerchief in a small wooden box that he had in his possession since he was a child. He often collected stones that he deposited within the small box along with pieces of origami that his mother made for him._

 

_As he closed the lid he felt as the last remnants of his love were buried in the box in a similar fashion as if it had been a coffin. A fitting end for such a fleeting love, for ice had replaced a sun warmed heart._

 

_‘Love is for the weak.’ the archer's mind supplied as it repeated his father's words. Still, love could inflict the deepest of wounds, and those were made worse by the fact that they could not be seen. Love was not for the weak._

 

_Love was for those who were willing to be hurt and healed by the same force._

 

_Thing was that Hanzo had first been coddled by it and then wounded. But he never really healed from those wounds that had been inflicted to his heart._

 

_Time passed, slowly so, yet everything fell apart as a rock would when it is hit by the relentless waves of the ocean until it becomes nothing but sand, and Hanzo could not go on anymore._

 

_And so, he took his quiver and his bow along with the box filled with mementos of a life that from that point forward would be nothing more than a set of memories which in time would fade away. He left without giving a single glance back to the Shimada castle for nothing remained within those walls anymore. His future was uncertain and his past lain among ruins and ashes._

 

_He had nothing left._

 

* * *

 

 

“My apologies for the long wait.” the archer retorted slightly out of breath. He was reaching his limit.

 

“No need for any of that, honeybee.”

 

Hanzo noticed that the cowboy seemed to be at peace. As if the place he had been found at was where he wished to remain. On that moment a cold shudder caused the archer to tremble.

 

Was Jesse going to refuse being returned to the waking world?

 

Was this the last chance to try and bring him back?

 

Hanzo could not voice his concerns, for he feared the answers that he would be given.

 

“You know,” the gunslinger began pacing as he spoke, “I've seen many things in my lifetime but nothin' like _this_.” the cowboy pointed animatedly at the glowing scarlet thread that was spread over the concrete floor.

 

“You can see it?” the archer asked flabbergasted.

 

“Damn right I can!” McCree voiced out proudly, “Gave me quite the fright the first time it appeared too.”

 

“How come...” the archer spoke seemingly out of breath, he could feel himself slipping away at some moments. Like a leaf that was floating adrift with the autumn winds. “Since when?”

 

“Since I got wounded, I guess?” he shrugged, “You were there all focused on fighting off the Talon goons... I remember you were...” the cowboy hesitated for a moment, a pang of sadness twisted the archer's heart as McCree's words left his lips, for the cowboy's sorrow was evident. “protecting me.”

 

Hanzo sat down on the concrete floor slowly as he listened intently to Jesse.

 

“You kept on callin' me and told me to remain awake.” the gunslinger had a distant look in his eyes as he spoke. “Your voice kept me grounded, and I wanted to stay awake but I couldn't. I'm sorry.”

 

After hearing the apology the archer stood up, his pace was being hindered by his exhaustion, but he managed to walk over to where the cowboy was standing.

 

“Do not apologize, for none of that was your fault.” Shimada whispered, “If anything, it was me who failed for not being able to prevent any of that from happening.”

 

The cowboy took Hanzo's face between his hands and murmured, “You weren't at fault either, darlin'.” the archer relished in the way Jesse was caressing his cheekbone slowly. The thumb drawing invisible circles over the skin. “None of us could've known what was gonna happen.”

 

Hanzo had heard so many times that if you are not part of the solution, then you are part of the problem. In the archer's head he was the one to blame for Jesse's state to begin with, for sins weight heavy in one's soul, but failures weight heavier still.

 

The Shimada heir remembered that he had a strange dream on the few moments in which he had fallen asleep on the airship. McCree had been present in the dream. In it, he had been but a pale shadow of the man he usually was, and as much as Hanzo had tried to reach out for the gunslinger, he simply grew more and more distant until he red of his serape was nothing more than a spec of dust swallowed by the never ending dark. The archer had forgotten about it until the mission came to pass. A sense of foreboding and _déjà vu_ invaded him when he laid eyes upon the crumpled body of his soulmate as he was bleeding out.

 

He was at fault for not saying anything and for not reaching McCree in time. The everlasting feelings of helplessness and inevitability had invaded Hanzo's mind since the beginning of his journey, for he blamed himself still.

 

He may not have been the one who fired the weapon that wounded the cowboy, but he kept silent about his premonition, and that made him in his mind, as much of a culprit as the one who did pull the trigger.

 

“Darlin'?” the gunslinger called, “Hanzo? Can you hear me?”

 

The archer blinked several times as his train of thought was interrupted, he was finally able to focus once more on the man that was standing in front of him.

 

“My apologies.” me murmured as he took notice that Jesse was yet to let go of his face. The warm touch brought a short lived smile upon his face.

 

“Glad to have you back to the present.”

 

The empty hallways and high ceilings were concealing both of them within the memory, Hanzo felt slightly trapped; for the memories that were held within the place were nothing that he wished to relish into.

 

“I should have done more.” the Shimada heir berated himself once again, but after a few seconds Hanzo took in a deep breath and released it slowly as the world began to twist and tumble in front of him, and Jesse became nothing more than a blurry figure in his eyes.

 

The strength left him momentarily and breathing became difficult.

 

“Darlin' what's wrong?” McCree took a hold of the archer's shoulders to help him to stay standing, “You look pale all of the sudden!”

 

“I...” his voice failed to come out for a moment, “I simply need to... sit down.”

 

The cowboy managed to take a seat over a wooden crate, then maneuvered both of their bodies so that Hanzo was sitting on his lap comfortably. The archer's head was cradled underneath Jesse's chin.

 

The scent of hay was still clinging to the serape even though the smell of gunpowder seemed to overpower it a little. Yet, Hanzo relished in the small comfort it offered him.

 

It reminded him of summer days spent contentedly in each other's arms.

 

“You know,” the cowboy began after a long stretch of silence, “when you were there shooting down Talon while I was wounded, you reminded me of those heroes that I used to read about.” Jesse's prosthetic hand was supporting Hanzo's back while the other was holding onto the archer's left hand. Their fingers threaded and the string of fate glowing as bright as the morning sun.

 

“You were there, all brave and imposing.” the gunslinger smiled, “Like an ancient warrior fighting to keep his beloved safe.”

 

“In a sense, I was.” Hanzo murmured. “I am sorry I did not got to your side sooner.”

 

“My darlin', you don't need to apologize.” McCree said gently, “I wasn't careful enough, that's it.”

 

Hanzo sighed. He had so much to say to that but there was not much time left.

 

“I'm just a bit mad because it took me nearly dyin’ to see it.” McCree mumbled.

 

“It is said that the string is revealed to the soulmates when the time is right.”

 

“And me bleedin’ out on the floor was the right time?” the gunslinger deadpanned, “How about when we were in Hanamura? Why not then?”

 

“Remember that the fates are fickle and also seem to have a terrible sense of humor.” the archer retorted.

 

Hanzo could feel his life force is weakening with each moment that passed. Yet he was determined to send Jesse back even if it was to kill himself in the process.

 

“Jesse,” he raised his head so that he could look into those brown eyes he was so fond of, “I need you to do as I say. I need you to wake up.”

 

“I think I'm _awake_ darlin'.”

 

“No you are not.”

 

“But the noises, and the lights...” he paused, “The _voices_.”

 

“What voices?” Hanzo spoke up surprised.

 

“There's noises sometimes,” he explained to the archer, “and voices that come and go whenever the darkness surrounded me.”

 

It became clear to Hanzo that those moments that McCree spoke of, were probably instants in which the cowboy's body could have awakened. But it did not come to happen. Those moments were similar to when the archer himself had been traversing from one memory to the next, looking for the link to the version of Jesse who would want to be returned to the waking world.

 

Yet, the cowboy had remained in a coma.

 

_Why?_

 

Was Hanzo responsible for the entrapment of Jesse as well?

 

The archer stood up from the gunslinger's lap, his complexion pale and his limbs trembling.

 

“You need to leave.” he said nearly out of breath, for his soul was spent. He felt cold and tired but he wanted Jesse to just _wake up._ “You need to go.”

 

“Go where, darlin'?”

 

“Back.” the archer said quietly, “There is people awaiting your return.”

 

Jesse stood up as well, stared at Hanzo in silence for a long time. The archer was simply too tired to question the cowboy's scrutiny and simply remained quiet as well.

 

Still, in his mind Hanzo begged for an exit, for a way so that Jesse was finally able to wake up.

 

The thread of fate began to glow brighter, the light it emitted gradually growing in intensity until in the far reaches of the abandoned facility, right between two rows of metallic crates, a bright door appeared out of thin air.

 

It was the exit. This was the end, and Hanzo felt both saddened and glad for it.

 

This was the last time he was to see Jesse but he was more than happy to have had such a chance, for not many could say the same. He had seen McCree's soul bared to him in many ways, and he was more than grateful for it.

 

Whatever fate awaited him after he faded away he would embrace gladly, for he was content for having shared such a journey with his soulmate. For as short as their time together had been, he was thankful still.

 

The archer guided Jesse toward the new addition to the place, his hand holding on tightly to the cowboy's .

 

“Go through it and do not look back.” he commanded, still out of breath as they both stood up in front of the door.

 

“You are coming with me, aren't you?” the gunslinger inquired as he observed how Hanzo's body became slightly transparent and the string lost some of its former brightness. Cold dread pooled within McCree's chest, for he was fearing the worst.

 

“Yes. I will follow.” Hanzo voiced out trying to reassure his soulmate, yet as his strength deserted him he chose to sit down in front of the exit. “I just need you to go on ahead and I will follow as soon as I regain my bearings.”

 

The roles had been inverted. On that moment, instead of McCree bleeding out on the cold unforgiving ground, Hanzo was slowly growing weaker. The archer's soul faded away in a fashion similar to that of fire when it is deprived of oxygen.

 

Dimming out slowly until it goes out all at once, and with its absence, it leaves the world covered in shadows.

 

"It is quite all right Jesse," he whispered, "in this life I have tasted both the bitterness of loneliness but also the sweet side of love thanks to you. I hold no regrets nor I desire for nothing more than you living on after I am gone."

 

In the beginning, his endeavor had felt quite akin to a Sysphean task, and yet, even if it was to take an eternity; Hanzo had been more than determined to see it to the very end.

 

"Live well and be happy my beloved." the archer whispered in the quietness of the moment. He was completely resigned to finally die there.

 

The lights overhead seemed brighter and the surrounding objects had lost their sharpness. There, at the very end of his life the archer felt a peace he had not experienced before. Hanzo was glad, for they had shared something tangible, something that had been real even if it had been but for a short while.

 

Hanzo closed his eyes for a moment, and silence reigned until the cowboy broke the fragile calmness.

 

"So all that you told me about followin' me through the door and back to the waking world was nothin' more than horsefeathers?" McCree said as he knelt in front of Hanzo and took his hand.

 

Hanzo smiled for a short moment as McCree's words echoed through the empty place.

 

“I do believe that now it is your turn to sail away and for me to stay behind.” the archer murmured, “I do hope that these memories remind you always of those happy times we shared, as few as they are.” Once upon a time they had a dream they both shared. They swore that their love was never ending.

 

Once upon a time they had it all.

 

Hanzo hoped for Jesse to go on, and to forget him soon so that sorrow would not weight his soul down.

 

“It is an honorable end to die for those who are worth it.” the archer smiled as the words left his lips, the thread dimmed with each word he said. “and for me you are the most deserving of them all.” Hanzo took in a deep breath and continued his speech. “Nothing worth doing is ever easy, but for you, I would move heaven an earth just to see your smile.”

 

And he had.

 

Even if Hanzo was yet to realize it, in Jesse's eyes he had done so by a tenfold.

 

The archer's vision darkened for a moment, it was as if someone had spread a black cloth over his eyes. Hanzo felt how colder everything was becoming, behind him the night was beckoning him. He felt tired and he wished for nothing more than to close his eyes and rest.

 

“You must know,” he whispered to Jesse as he felt the cowboy squeezing his hand, the warmth permeated his freezing skin and reminded him of better days under the summer sun with McCree by his side. “that this too will end, just as any dream does upon awakening.”

 

“But how do you expect me to go on without you darlin’?” the question broke the peaceful ambiance than had befallen the place. McCree's voice seemed hollow.

 

“I know you can, you deserve a good life Jesse and I am more than glad to provide you the means to go back and build it.” Hanzo spoke calmly, as if the mere concept of him dying was not tearing Jesse's heart apart. “Besides if I stay in here, I will fade away faster and that will not have that much of an impact on you. The bond will break eventually after becoming dim in intensity and eventually you will be set free.”

 

That explanation did not sat well with the cowboy.

 

“If you stay, then I'm stayin’ too.”

 

“No, I will not allow that.” the archer retorted weakly.

 

“Why?”

 

“Because you are needed.” the lights overhead were becoming too much for the archer to bear and he closed his eyes expecting Jesse to see reason in his plea.

 

“How can you expect me to leave you behind after waitin’ for you for a whole lifetime?” the despair in the cowboy's voice was evident. “How do you expect me to abandon you now that I got you here? Now that I can see the string and what you truly are to me?” McCree's voice was reduced to a whisper as his eyes filled with tears. “I would rather fade away with you here, because I just won't go on without ya.”

 

silence reigned once more. Both men weighed down by doubts and sorrow.

 

"Jesse..." the archer's voice seemed distant somehow, as if his own self was not there entirely anymore. "I do not deserve you. Not after all I have done."

 

The cowboy closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "So that's what this is all about?" he inquired. "You think you don't deserve me? Even though you know that in the time I was with Deadlock I was nothing more than a criminal too."

 

"It is not the same. You have been trying to atone for most of your life." Hanzo explained.

 

"That doesn't make much of a difference. A crime's a crime no matter how long ago it was committed." the cowboy stared into the distance. "I shot dead in the head so many innocents just because I was told to... even after all these years, I can still hear their screams in my head."

 

McCree then stared at the archer who was silent and pale, he noticed how the thread of fate seemed to be pulsating. "I think that if you give me the chance, the both of us can overcome all of this." he paused and offered Hanzo a smile, "Together."

 

Hanzo stared back at the gunslinger, his words died in his throat when he noticed the saddened expression that was marring Jesse's face as the smiled faded out.

 

"I believed that our time was over." the Shimada heir whispered, "That we would never be together again." 

 

“I saw you so many times in dreams,” McCree said as a tear slid down his face, “I was with you in your castle so many times.” his voice began to tremble, “and none of those were lasting things and I ain’t going to let ya go again.”

 

“But…” Hanzo tried to speak up.

  
”Ya don’t get to make that choice for me darlin’.” the cowboy said as he sat down and placed Hanzo on his lap once more, embracing him with all his strength, a sob escaped the Jesse's lips.“If you stay here then I'm staying too, and we both die. Simple as that.” around them, the place seemed to be disappearing. Darkness began to seep through the corners and swallowed the entirety of the chamber slowly. “You came here to find me only to go and die when you were done, and I ain’t acceptin’ none of that.”

 

Hanzo could hear the cowboy's strong heart beating as the darkness continued to spread, the door glowing still as if it was trying to beckon them towards it.

 

“How can you want me after all I have done?” the archer inquired after a few moments of silence.

 

The cowboy seemed to ponder upon the answer he was to give, but in the end what he said was a simple truth. “Neither of us are innocent men. We have done terrible things and we’ve been tryin’ to atone for years.” the gunslinger paused for a moment and once more took Hanzo's left hand in his right one, the string's crimson glow becoming once more as bright as it had been before the archer began to fade.

 

“My darlin’,” McCree whispered, the sadness was still keeping a hold over him in a fashion similar to the cold frost of winter when it covers a river; freezing it slowly until the waters on the surface stand still. “it's time for you to forgive yourself and give this,” he pointed at the string that was tangled between their joined hands, “all of this a chance. You deserve to smile once more and I’ll make sure to give ya reasons to smile every day of your life for as long as I draw breath.” his last words were accompanied by a small kiss over Hanzo's forehead.

 

“Jesse.” the archer called, “It is getting dark and you need to leave.”

 

“Not without you.” the cowboy declared firmly.

 

 _“Young Master.”_ the archer heard in the distance. _“Hear us.”_

 

_“Young Master, he will not remember.”_

 

The second voice said, and Hanzo wondered if Jesse was able to hear the calling of the Dragons as they spoke. But by the lack of response from the cowboy, it seemed that he was was unable to listen to them.

 

 _“What if he does remember?”_ he inquired within his mind.

 

 _“He will not, for it is not necessary for him to remember.”_ the Dragons reassured him.

 

His spiritual guardians had never lead him astray before, he trusted them with his life. After such an assurance the archer had no choice but to accept that in order to awaken the cowboy he needed to go along as well, for it was the only way to get Jesse out of his coma.

 

Hanzo moved away from the gunslinger's lap and calmly stood up. Weakness weighed him down still, but he spoke firmly to his soulmate.

 

“Very well, Jesse.” he said as the cowboy stood up beside him. Jesse had an arm extended towards the archer as the world began to spin around him. “I will go with you.”

 

"Seriously?" the cowboy received a nod in response from Hanzo, Jesse's expression changed to that of hopeful expectation and a smile appeared over his face.

 

“Do not let go of my hand Jesse, and follow me.” Hanzo explained as he approached the door with McCree right beside him.

 

“You scared?” Jesse inquired as the eerie light that was emitted by the door seemed to be the last remnant of luminosity in that place, everything else had been swallowed by the shadows.

 

Hanzo faced McCree and blinked slowly before answering, “I am terrified.” he admitted, "But, I believe we will get through this for good or ill."

 

He was frightened of the uncertain future that awaited him once he returned. Of what Jesse would think if he ever was to truly remember any of what had transpired. What he feared the most was to be rejected by McCree once they both woke up, but he had been reassured by the dragons that it would not be the case, and he trusted the ancient spirits with his life and that of his soulmate.

 

Hanzo still feared Jesse's reaction upon awakening, for one thing was one's subconscious, and another one was the entirety of the person.

 

Even if Hanzo had seen how the cowboy felt, it did not mean that Jesse was willing to let him know. For all he knew, what he experienced could have been merely repressed feelings that were projected by the string of fate and fueled by his own wishful thinking.

 

What if he had indeed ruined McCree's memories?

 

What if the cowboy was not the same upon awakening?

 

The gunslinger seemed to feel Hanzo's own hesitation and laid a kiss over the archer's hand.

 

“I ain't letting go, darlin'.” he said as he moved closer to the archer, “I'm here with you.”

 

The Shimada heir nodded in response and received a smile from Jesse.

 

“Shall we?” McCree asked as he tilted his head in exit's direction.

 

“Indeed.” the archer replied as he held onto the cowboy's hand with all his strength and laid a soft peck upon McCree's lips.

 

A bright light engulfed them as they both stepped through the doorway.

 

The place became hazy and the concrete walls that had been covered in darkness disappeared, as both men found themselves standing under a desert willow that was intertwined with a cherry blossom tree. The string was shining brightly as the petals from both trees fell upon the ground. Hanzo smiled as Jesse embraced him.

 

“Sometimes you gotta choose hope, even when there's none.” the cowboy whispered in Hanzo's ear.

 

Both of them closed their eyes as everything became impossibly bright.

 

“Where are we goin’ now?” the gunslinger's words seemed distant and as they faded into the back of the archer's mind, and so it did the sense of exhaustion that had befallen upon Hanzo on the last stretch of the journey.

 

"Home." the archer whispered. "It is time for you to wake up."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The first thing that Hanzo became aware of, were the sounds of the different machines that were within the room and the smell of antiseptic.

 

The beeping noise that was overheard, the breathing aid that McCree had been connected to and a wince that had escaped his own mouth as he tried to open his eyes, but the light made it impossible to do so without the archer having to blink several times, so that his eyes could grown accustomed to it.

 

The room was still the same, yet small changes had been done while he had been unconscious.

 

For starters, as Hanzo tried to get up he noticed he had been moved onto the same bed as the cowboy and hooked up to an IV that was connected to his free hand.

 

The archer's other hand, the one that was till holding onto McCree's, was tied up to Jesse's with the golden ribbon he had tasked his dragons to give to the cowboy after his Journey was complete for he had been more than sure he was to die. The dragons had been resting atop of their joined hands. Both spirits watching over the unconscious soulmates and driving away anyone who tried to separate their conjoined hands.

 

As he glanced around, the archer noticed that he had been in fact, covered with the cowboy's serape as well. It took him some time to become aware of his body and how stiff he felt as he laid on the hard mattress. On the small table that was on the side, there was a flower vase filled to the brim with different kinds of colorful yet slightly withered buds. 'Get Better Soon' cards littered the small table as well.

 

A bunch of neon-colored balloons floated peacefully near the window.

 

The archer attempted to get up but failed to do so on the first try. Beside him, he noticed that Jesse had regained some of his color, and that his sun kissed skin was returning to its usual tone.

 

The dragons had moved to rest atop of the archer's chest as he had finally regained complete consciousness.

 

“How long?” Hanzo asked. His voice was raspy with disuse.

 

_“A week, Young Master.”_

 

“Is he going to regain consciousness?” the archer asked nervously.

 

What if his journey had been for naught?

 

 _“He will awaken shortly, for he followed you through the door.”_ the spirits answered in unison and with that, Hanzo's nervous streak was gone, instead replaced by dread.

 

What if Jesse did not want him to be there when he opened his eyes?

 

Should he stay and wait?

 

Should he _leave_?

 

Was he even welcome to remain in the room now that he had completed his endeavor?

 

Doubt took over and the archer removed his hand from the ribbon that tied down both his and Jesse's intertwined hands, and proceeded to slowly remove the IV from his other hand. He did so, slow and methodically, for there was no point in risking damage to any blood vessels.

 

Once he was done and with one last look around, he simply laid a soft peck upon the cowboy's warm lips. His heart twisted painfully as he did so, for it was probably the last kiss he would ever share with Jesse.

 

McCree's body began to give signs that indicated that in fact he was to awaken at any given moment and in his nervousness Hanzo ran, forgetting about the golden ribbon that was still tied to the gunslinger's wrist.

 

Hanzo kept on repeating to himself that it was better this way, even if his heart was breaking with every step that he took to get away from the medical bay.

 

There was no need for him to stay any longer for his goal had been achieved, and even if his heart had been broken once more it did not truly matter, for he was used to such a feeling.

 

He could live with a shattered heart, for he had done so before. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The common noises of the med-bay and the bright lights above made the cowboy wince.

 

Jesse took in a deep breath and opened his eyes slowly. After a few tries, he had finally grown accustomed to the light but as he looked around, he found himself to be alone.

 

 _'Where's Hanzo?'_ he thought.

 

On the side table was his hat, the serape had been lain over his body as a blanket. He saw the vase with wilted flowers and several colorful cards littered over the beside table. He smiled at the gesture and wondered how long he had been out.

 

The last remnants of the words he had been told by Hanzo still echoed within his mind in an endless circle.

 

If Hanzo had been the one who brought him back, why was he not there by his side?

 

They were connected by the string, there should not be any more doubt between them.

 

Hanzo’s ribbon remained tied to McCree's right hand. The colorful piece of cloth made him wonder as to what the archer meant by leaving it tied to Jesse's wrist.

 

The cowboy was confused and even though he had just woken up, he felt tired.

 

Still, underneath the yellow silk he could see the glowing string and felt as if the haze he had woken up from was lifting up. He wondered if all he saw was merely a comatose dream caused by blood loss and the strong medication that was probably used on him.

 

 _'But it felt so real.'_  he thought, for his throat was much too dry for him to attempt any form of speech.

 

It had taken Jesse over half an hour to come to, but it had been enough time for Hanzo to run away and for the cowboy to be overwhelmed by friends and coworkers alike.

 

As the people from the watchpoint gathered around him and welcomed him back to the land of the living, a few more questions began to pop in his head.

 

_Where's Hanzo?_

 

For he did not see the archer among the sea of well known faces.

 

_Where's my soulmate?_

 

For he could see the string, but not the person that was attached to the other end.

 

_Why is he gone?_

 

Every time that the door opened his hope died a little more, for it was never Hanzo making his way in.

 

As night fell the commotion died out, and one by one his friends left the room. The last one had been Dr. Ziegler.

 

“You need rest, Jesse.” Angela said in a soft voice, as she adjusted the IV drip rate. “You may be awake now, but you still need more time in order to recover completely.”

 

“I'll rest doc.” he agreed halfheartedly, for remaining in bed for too long made him antsy.

 

“Good to hear. Though, this is the first time you ever agree to take some rest after being told to do so.” the doctor joked, and with that she left the room, promising to return in a few hours with some medication.

 

As the door closed the cowboy saw how a small flash of blue light suddenly appeared on top of the bed. It took a few moments for it to take the form of two elongated serpentine bodies that were nearly the size of a ferret.

 

 _“Soulmate, you must be patient.”_ one of the spirits said, as it moved closer to the gunslinger's face.

 

“Huh?” the small dragon did not surprise Jesse, merely made him curious as to what the presence of the ancient guardians could mean.

 

Did Hanzo sent them?

 

Where they visiting him by their own volition?

 

The other one moved toward the silk ribbon and remained still before looking at McCree straight in the eye and saying, _“You do not require to remember, for you already know.”_

 

_“And that is something that the Young Master does not have knowledge of.”_

 

“When will he be back?” Jesse inquired nervously, “I really need to talk to him.”

 

One of the dragons then moved and curled over his chest, resting right atop of the cowboy's sternum. _“The Young Master will return after he learns a few lessons that he requires in order to see things with more clarity.”_

 

_"Those lessons will come from those who have far more experience with the thread than he."_

 

 _"But rest assured honored soulmate, that the Young Master will return to you. Your dreams do not betray you, for they have shown you the truth."_ one of the spirits added,  _"We are aware of your knowledge, for you have indeed not forgotten anything after you walked across the doorway."_

 

Jesse smiled, for it was true. He could recall everything.

 

After McCree woke up, he began to slowly regain memories of all that Hanzo had said to him within the subconscious domain that was his mind... or his soul... or whatever it had been. The point was, that he knew that the archer had been willing to die in order to save him, and that he had always been aware of the link between them and never said anything about it.

 

The cowboy wanted to know the reason for that, for he had firmly believed that Hanzo was connected to another person. 

 

“Does he even want me?” Jesse wondered out loud as he made himself as comfortable as he could over the stiff mattress.

 

 _“Indeed he does.”_ one of the spirits replied, _“He is merely frightened.”_

 

 _“You must be patient.”_ the other one added. _“Hesitation, self-doubt and hopelessness cloud the heart and mind of the Young Master.”_

 

_“He will return to you, when it is time.”_

 

“Okay, I'm game.” he agreed, even though he was full of questions and doubts, but he could wait. After all, patience was his forte and he was truly looking forward to their next encounter because he remembers everything, from every single one of their conversations to the last kiss they shared before crossing the last doorway.

 

Besides, he had said so himself, that he would wait an eternity for Hanzo if he had to.

 

The cowboy ran his fingers over the silky material of the golden ribbon as he fell asleep under the watchful eye of the ancient spirits with a smile on his face.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The dragons are tiny little trolls in their own way.  
> Thanks for stopping by!  
> 


	16. Tangled Thread

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while and I apologize.  
> Life has been quite harsh on my end. A dear family member passed away recently and it's been quite difficult.
> 
> I want to thank you for all the kudos and comments.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter.

 

* * *

Three days had passed since Hanzo had left the med-bay mere seconds before Jesse had opened his eyes. At some moments he found himself overcome with doubt for he wished to return and make sure that the cowboy was completely fine, even though he received some news from some of the other agents; he had no desire to rely on their word and instead the archer felt the need to make sure that McCree was completely all right by seeing him with his own eyes.

 

Yet his doubt lingered. It was akin to having a boulder chained to his ankle, its heaviness caused by his own hesitation.

 

There were moments in which he simply wanted to sever the bond permanently. Even though Hanzo had promised to himself years ago never to become someone similar to his father. Yet, he was considering it and if he so choose he was more than willing to do so, for his own apprehension did not allow for him to see things any better than before.

 

Hanzo believed firmly in the simple idea that had spawned numerous times within his head, he often thought that the cowboy would be better off without him. Jesse had no idea of their connection, not at all, even though the cowboy had claimed the contrary while the archer had been dwelling within Jesse's consciousness numerous times, it did not meant that McCree was going to be aware of the thread in the waking world.

 

Jesse had been unable to see it years ago, and on the current moment it would be no different.

 

Or so the archer kept on thinking.

 

Hanzo hoped for Jesse's experiences to befall into oblivescence, for he had no desire to confront a man who was probably yet not aware of their connection or was unable to remember their shared past. Or he was perhaps enraged at Hanzo's actions, not only for his intrusive expedition to McCree's subconscious, but also because he had been the one who tried to kill the man that Jesse came to consider a friend; for it seemed the the friendship that the gunslinger shared with Genji goes all the way back to the time whilst they had been in Blackwatch working together under Reyes' command.

 

Hanzo's brother had inquired more than once as to why he had not gone to visit the cowboy for three days after he had been awakened. As an answer, the archer simply said that there was no need for him to visit McCree.

 

It was not the cowards way if he was to be asked. He was simply avoiding unnecessary conflict seeing as his task had been completed successfully and as such, the Shimada heir considered that there was no need to have any further contact with McCree.

 

Things would continue as they had always been since he arrived at the watchpoint several months ago. Hanzo would keep his distance, he would do his job and that would be all.

 

 _'It should suffice.'_ he kept on thinking. The words becoming a mantra that he continued repeating nonstop within his mind. Though after he had shared such precious memories with the cowboy, his dreams of the last days had been plagued with images of the time they spent together, both new and old.

 

When was it going to be _their_ time?

 

Apparently it would never be; for it seemed to Hanzo that their time was already long past.

 

Hanzo had been waiting decades for the link to be complete, and it never happened. But was it enough to have shared repeated memories alongside a mere reflection of McCree’s soul for the archer?

 

Would it suffice in the long run to have experienced those emotions and allow the thread to linger without acknowledging its existence any longer?

 

Hanzo was considering the fact that even though McCree was awake and aware of it in his subconscious, it did not meant that now that the cowboy had regained consciousness he remembered or was aware of their connection.

 

Hanzo as always, expected rejection whenever he pondered about the thread that linked both him and McCree, for what else could he expect?

 

Acceptance he could yearn for, but the archer never truly believed that he would ever receive such a gift.

 

Keeping his distance was a safe measure. Not only it prevented the team from discovering the connection he shared with Jesse, but it also reduced the possibility of the cowboy being used against Hanzo by their numerous enemies and vice-versa.

 

Or so Hanzo kept on repeating as well. Even if he had no desire to admit it, the archer would be more than happy just to allow such a secret to simply be forgotten. Not because he held any sort of hatred toward Jesse, for it was quite the opposite. But as always, he considered that the cowboy deserved someone better, whether the string was involved or not.

 

* * *

 

_Heavy gray clouds had given way to torrential rain the day Hanzo arrived to the watchpoint in Gibraltar. He had forgone any transports in favor to keep his impending arrival a secret in case he had been followed._

 

_The introduction to the team had been short and to the point._

 

_There were a myriad faces he had never seen before but they all had something in common, they held hope in their expressions. They were trying to fight in order to make the world a better place and Hanzo considered that it was more than a worthy cause to work for. Redemption had many ways to be achieved, and helping the world become safer with each battle they fought was something he would gladly do._

 

_He had brought destruction with the same hands that he would use to try to mend the damage that had been done._

 

_The archer's brother had been the first one to greet him, whilst the rest of the team seemed doubtful; which was reasonable seeing as he was a stranger at the time yet, some were borderline hostile as they introduced themselves by name. Hanzo paid them no mind until his eyes fell upon the cowboy that stood right at the back of the group. His eyes went over the red serape on the cowboy's shoulders, a Stetson resting upon the messy brown hair and the scruffy beard that covered most of the taller man's face._

 

_But the detail that caught Hanzo's attention the most, were the eyes. Warm brown that reflected the overhead lights, the stare that told a thousand words without the need to utter a single whisper._

 

_Hanzo could recognize those eyes anywhere, and the slight pull that came from the string told the Shimada heir everything he needed to know._

 

_That was Jesse._

 

_His Jesse._

 

_The archer's mouth became dry and his heart began to beat at a faster rate. In a single moment in time there was no one else in the conference room but him and the gunslinger. He was reminded of quiet nights shared under the veil of stars. Of soft kisses and warm caresses as they both sat upon the ground in the castle's garden._

 

_Of promises made under the light of the full moon._

 

_Seeing Jesse after all that time made Hanzo wonder if the cowboy even remembered him. His face may be different but at the sound of his name the cowboy should have recognized him at the very least, yet McCree had continued to look forward quite nonchalant._

 

_'Perhaps this is another Jesse McCree.' his mind supplied one moment only to reply with hopeful words on the next. 'You know it is him.' his heart began to beat even faster as his mind raced over the thought._

 

_What Hanzo failed to notice was the hopeful smile that adorned the gunslinger's face when he had been dismissed. Yet, the archer never thought of the possibility that Jesse believed that Hanzo had found whomever it was that was tied to the other end of the thread. McCree simply believed that the archer did not want him anymore._

 

_The Shimada heir was torn between hope and despair. He feared the response he would get if he was to approach the cowboy but at the same time he yearned to be close to McCree._

 

_Jesse usually observed Hanzo whenever he was sitting down over the numerous catwalks that were spread over their base. The archer usually lost in thought while staring at the sea, and commonly either drinking sake or tea. Hanzo had always been aware of eyes observing him for a few minutes intervals whenever he found himself in complete solitude. As it had been in their youth, Jesse was still able to walk in complete silence even while wearing his spurs._

 

_Hanzo at first believed they were trying to keep an eye on him in case he changed his mind and tried to either escape or betray Overwatch. But as time passed, he noticed that the only person who ever had an eye on him was Jesse._

 

_Only Jesse._

 

_Hanzo usually acknowledged the presence of the gunslinger with a nod and a short greeting. He often meant to inquire the reason why it was only the cowboy who was sent to observe him, but the archer decided to let it be instead._

 

_“You are not as sneaky as you believe you are.” the Shimada heir announced one day. A discrete smile appeared on his face that lasted but a a short moment, yet he was reminded of the cowboy doing the same years ago. McCree sneaking into the Shimada caste was one of the most comical yet endearing things that Hanzo had witnessed all of those years ago._

 

_Never failed to bring a smile upon his lips back then, and it still does so on that moment as well._

 

_The warm colors that adorned the sky as the sun was setting were being reflected upon the surface of the ocean in a similar way as that of a mirror. Hanzo often found peace in moments such as those, for as they day came to an end, the rich palette of gold, orange and yellow that had spread over the sky often melted into tenuous purple and dark blue. It seemed as if the moment in which the light of the first stars graced the sky, silence reigned._

 

_It was as if the world itself was in awe of the transition between the last vestiges of the fading sunlight and the appearance of the celestial bodies that adorned the dark expanse of the night sky._

 

_“And here I thought I was gettin' better at that.” the cowboy's reply had been followed by a hearty laugh. The quiet moment interrupted but the ambiance remained the same; peaceful still._

 

_“You will improve.” Hanzo said, mirth laced in his words as he too began to laugh._

 

_It was the same on missions. They greeted each other and made small conversation, but Hanzo still continued keeping his distance from everyone. He was convinced that Jesse had forgotten him or hated him, yet they shared small moments that only lasted a few minutes at best. There were inane bits of conversation shared by them in the middle of missions. A greeting in the training room and a few select words about drinks, but that was it._

 

_Was he being mocked by the cowboy?_

 

_Surely his presence was more than enough to remind Jesse of the time they shared together in the past, yet the cowboy was either purposely ignoring that fact or was truly unable to remember._

 

_Or perhaps McCree simply hated Hanzo. The archer often pondered upon that fact and truth to be told, he believed that it was probably true._

 

_But the Shimada heir never truly asked the gunslinger if he harbored hatred towards him or not, he simply assumed it was the truth for it was what he had come to expect._

 

_But would somebody who hated him go out of their way just to talk to Hanzo and keep him company?_

 

_Or was it all part of an elaborate joke at Hanzo's expense?_

 

_The string still glowed, a fateful reminder of what could have been if he had been brave enough to leave the clan before his life had fallen to pieces. He could have found happiness._

 

_They both could have._

 

_What if they hadn't met in their current life? Would the fates be more lenient the next time they found one another?_

 

_Or would they go through the same amount of tribulations as they were in their current life?_

 

_Hanzo longed for more but he was sure his opportunity was long past. He reminded himself over and over that love was not his to have anymore, that only redemption was important._

 

_Yet as he laid eyes upon the string of fate and then on Jesse, he doubted, for he desired to have him in his arms once more._

 

_He wished to have the cowboy by his side. He yearned to go back to a time where sorrow and despair had disappeared from his life and in their stead, bubbly laughter and soft caresses had taken place._

 

_Those times were long gone nonetheless, and he had to learn to accept that. Still, he hoped he could at least gain Jesse's friendship._

 

_It was not what he wanted, but it would suffice; for life was not supposed to hand him over anything he wished for. The universe is cold and unforgiving and life was all the same as well. He got what was deemed fair to be given to him and he worked with it to make the most out of any situation. The Fates have never been merciful and no one would ever be coddled by them._

 

_Hanzo could deal with a broken heart, for he had done so in the past._

 

_'McCree's companionship would do.' his mind supplied._

 

_“That is a lie.” he muttered a moment later._

 

_They do say that absence makes the heat grow fonder but... did those words held true for Jesse and Hanzo as well?_

 

_Or were both of their hearts too broken by time and distance, that anything more than friendship was impossible?_

 

 

* * *

 

 

Hanzo's time in the past few days had been comprised between training and meditation. Even though he usually occupied his days with those activities, after Jesse woke up, the archer had deliberately taken even longer training sessions and his meditations took even longer as well.

 

The archer usually avoided the small garden that many of the Overwatch members usually took care of. They had planted herbs and fruit trees over the small space; though a rather quaint corner held some flower shrubs that had been planted by none other than Bastion.

 

It was a dreary morning when Hanzo had stepped into the aforementioned garden. The sun unable to shine through the heavy rain clouds that were spread all over the sky. The late autumn breeze making him shiver, yet the chill was a welcome change; for the archer would consider it a challenge to be able to focus in his meditation while he avoided thinking about anything else at the same time.

 

Be it Jesse or the cold.

 

 _Or both_.

 

He sat in front of a hydrangea shrub. The plant was yet to have the old blooms trimmed, which with the winter rapidly approaching caused the frothy clusters of flowers to look similar to clouds as their colors began to fade from a slight powder blue to simple white.

 

The potted forget-me-nots that were to Hanzo's left had lost all their flowers by the end of summer, but the archer liked to sit in proximity to the small plant. Not only because of its meaning, even though that was mostly the reason as to why he chose the spot between the hydrangeas and the forget-me-nots to begin with.

 

Although he would never admit it out loud.

 

Hanzo crossed his legs and took in a deep breath in order to begin his daily meditation routine, yet as it had been as of late, he found himself unable to concentrate. He kept his eyes closed and continued his breathing exercises until he felt another presence approaching.

 

He remained quiet, did not dare to move a muscle as he hoped that whoever it was would not try to either interrupt him to attempt to make small talk. Although, he noticed the absence of footsteps and concluded that it was probably Zenyatta who was making his way into the garden.

 

The Shambali monk usually kept his distance and only gave advise when he considered it was needed, that was the reason why it came as a surprise for Hanzo when he heard the omnic's words as he gently floated beside the archer.

 

“A closed mind is already defeated,” he began, “in the same way a closed heart is.”

 

“Why are you here?” the archer inquired in a low voice, his curiosity evident. “Did Genji sent you?”

 

Hanzo would not put it beyond his brother to send his master to try to make him see _'reason'_.

 

But to what purpose exactly?

 

“Look at this garden.” the monk's steady voice filled the place, not giving an answer to Hanzo's previous question. “The seeds grow despite it all, even if the conditions are not entirely optimal. They hold no doubts or concerns so long as the sun shines down on them and the rain fills the soil.”

 

The Shimada heir remained silent for he wanted to know exactly what was it that Zenyatta was trying to convey.

 

“Doubt is a dark space where we cannot see where we should go, it holds us back by not allowing us to see what awaits for us in the light.” the Shambali monk paused for a moment and reached for a small dried leaf that was on the ground. “Yet just as these plants, we continue to grow; even in uncertainty.”

 

“You seem hopeful.” Hanzo voiced out after a moment of silence.

 

“I am, for there is no reason to lose all hope.” Zenyatta said, his serene and slightly warm words were a contrast to the overcast sky they were sitting under on that morning.

 

“If this is about the thread and if Genji is the one who sent you, then you should know that I have already made my choice.” the archer stated, his voice firm and his eyes set upon a distant point of the garden.

 

“Hearts are truly complicated.” the omnic's voice seemed distant somehow, as if he was lost within his own thoughts. “They are fragile, yet quite resilient at the same time.”

 

“No...” the archer interrupted, “Hearts are treacherous and incorrigible. They hold onto things that should be forgotten and refuse to let go from memories that should be allowed to fade”

 

“Yet deep down and despite it all, they keep alive the smallest sliver of hope that we never truly allow ourselves to lose.” Zenyatta added, “And that is something you should not forget; for it is a precious gift.”

 

With that the monk left the garden, leaving Hanzo lost in his own thoughts and once more unable to concentrate enough to meditate. For the archer, it seemed that the Shambali monk was indeed hopeful even in the midst of uncertainty. For even Zenyatta was tied by the fates and that made Hanzo wonder if the monk was aware of it.

 

Still, the archer considered that Zenyatta was brave. For even in the face of such a dilemma, he went on believing that the outcome would be positive.

 

It was foolish, yet endearing.

 

* * *

 

 

Hanzo made his way to the training room hoping to quell both his desire to visit the cowboy and the strange sensation that filled his heart whenever he remembered the monk's words. He knew exactly what Zenyatta had been referring to, but it was impossible in his mind to consider another outcome that was not tied to the severing of the string.

 

It was quite selfish of him and he was more than aware of it, but it needed to be done.

 

 _'Why?'_ he thought.

 

Why should he let go of the most precious gift he had ever been given?

 

Would Jesse even want to remain tied to the archer?

 

That question had been going around Hanzo's head for the longest time and the answer never seemed to be clear. He could have asked the cowboy but he also feared the outcome of such. He was afraid that the answer would break him even more.

 

The answer to his own question was more than clear, he was _afraid._

 

One of the biggest fears that anyone could hold within their hearts is that of rejection. That of not being good enough. Hanzo feared that just as he was never enough for his family and clan, he would not be enough for his own soulmate.

 

For who in their right mind would consider him as a soulmate?

 

He had been broken and scorned to the point in which he believed no one would ever consider giving him a second glance, string or not.

 

Besides, after all the time that had passed, would Jesse still harbor feelings toward Hanzo?

 

Would those feelings be tied to the presence of the thread of fate?

 

As he shot one arrow after the other, the Shimada heir found himself relaxing. His wild thoughts coming to a halt as the simple action of nocking the arrows and then letting them fly over until reaching the intended target brought upon him a sense of normalcy that never truly failed to ground him; for his bow had been an extension of his own self for years.

 

As each arrowhead became lodged into the bullseye, the archer relaxed even further.

 

By the time Hanzo noticed that there was someone else in the training room he had a small smirk planted over his lips.

 

“Nice shooting you got there, Shimada.” Morrison's gruff voice broke the quietness that befallen the practice range.

 

“Thank you, sir.” the archer replied without taking his eyes away from the targets.

 

“You know, it seems strange to me that you haven't dropped by to visit McCree again.” there it was, the subject that Hanzo had been trying to avoid for days.

 

“It does not seem necessary of me to return, as I have already completed the endeavor I had set up to.” the archer hoped his answer had sounded detached enough for the soldier to let go of the rest of the unanswered details and to leave the Shimada heir be once more.

 

“Let's not beat around the bush.” the ex-commander stated. “We both know what you are to him. The question here is if you want to actually _be_ his soulmate.” Morrison went straight to the point, for there was no sense to keep on pretending that he was trying to talk about anything else with the archer.

 

Those words took Hanzo by surprise for he had no idea that Soldier 76 was aware of the connection that the archer and the cowboy shared, then it occurred to him that there could have been more than one way for Morrison to find out.

 

Hanzo turned around and set his eyes upon the soldier's own string of fate.

 

The thread was barely there. The bright crimson had been nearly completely replaced by blotched black. Dark tendrils of smoke clung to what remained of the string that was attached to the soldier's hand. Yet somehow, he was _still_ connected to someone.

 

That simple revelation made the archer tilt his head for a short moment. He had never been one to meddle in other people's affairs but he found interesting that he was able to see those kinds of connections that others shared even if he could not tell much just by looking at the string itself.

 

It was as if Jack as well as the person on the other end refused to let go of their link, even if it was barely there as it was.

 

Silence befell upon them for a long time. It stretched seemingly forever, yet mere minutes had passed.

 

“Look, I'm aware of your connection to Jesse.” the soldier declared, “Known about it for a very long time actually.”

 

“How so?” the archer inquired calmly.

 

“Ever since Genji got into Blackwatch.” Morrison began to comb his fingers through his hair; a nervous habit he had developed from a very young age, and never quite could get rid of. “We were planning to take down the Shimada clan and eliminate their current leader at the time, but Genji asked us not to harm you.” Jack took in a deep breath and then resumed his speech, “We believed that he was trying to avoid having you killed, that because you were his sibling he didn't want you to die as well; but then he confessed that you were Jesse's soulmate and any harm brought onto you would affect McCree as well.”

 

“I... see.” the archer said. His words filling up the quiet shooting range after the silence stretched for too long.

 

“I was told that whether McCree had been aware of the string or not, he would've been affected anyway.” Jack added, his gruff voice became louder. “We couldn't afford to have one of Blackwatch's finest agents and sharpshooter afflicted by that. We tried to find another way but by the time we had concrete plans, you had vanished.”

 

Jack stared at his hands then. The heavy duty gloves the soldier wore over them served as a reminder, for the red intermingled with the black had been something he had to lay eyes on every day of his life ever since the explosion at the Zurich HQ. The black tendrils of smoke that covered his own thread of fate often engulfed the faded crimson of the string he had tied to his hand. It was of no consequence anymore, for he was used to it.

 

Hanzo stood patiently, he waited for the ex-commander to continue the conversation or dismiss him.

 

“Genji told us that even if we didn't know, he had in fact known all along.” Morrison chuckled, “He said that it was a Shimada curse _and_ a blessing to be aware of such. We never told Jesse because we believed that he should have found out on his own.”

 

The archer nodded at those words for they were true. There was little point on telling McCree about their connection if he was unaware of it anyhow.

 

The cowboy would not have believed it.

 

“I do wonder if things would have been any different had Jesse been knowledgeable of who was his soulmate.” the soldier sighed, “He could have been in a very different place when all of Overwatch fell apart.”

 

“Perhaps.” the Shimada heir replied, “I do believe that everything happened as it should have. What is done, is done.”

 

“Are you giving up on your bond?” Jack inquired, his curious tone more than evident, even if he was trying to disguise it as a mere nonchalant question.

 

“The fates are cruel and no one can ever bargain with them. They can be defied but it is truly impossible to go against them, for it never ends well.” the archer affirmed, his utter determination to cut the thread was made more evident by the words he had just said even though such an endeavor would seem impossible.

 

Still, he noticed how Morrison stared down at his own thread of fate. It was there even if it was singed and barely clinging to this plane of existence as it was.

 

“If it's any help, then I must say that even after all these years I'm glad the thread is still tied to my hand.” the soldier spoke slowly, “this string has endured a lot and after all this time, it gives me some semblance of comfort to know that the one on the other end is still alive. It helps me fight harder to see another day, to keep me going on, even when it seems impossible.”

 

Morrison's words rang true. Perseverance was after all not something that should be underestimated. It often fueled one's resolve resulting in literal feats similar to miracles just like the one Hanzo had performed by bringing McCree back from his coma.

 

“And yet when we both met, I had believed it to be impossible for me to be able to find whoever it was connected to the other end of the string.” the archer mentioned, a frown marred his face. “Then suddenly he was there and, I had not the slightest idea as to what to do.”

 

“You were both kids at that time,” the soldier said, “there hadn't been much that either of you could have done. What counts is what you will do now that you have found one another.” Morrison's voice seemed smaller somehow, “Second chances are rare and precious. Don't waste this opportunity.”

 

Hanzo mulled over the old soldier's words for a few seconds before he was brought out from his reverie once more.

 

"If it helps," Morrison began, "the way I found out who was my soulmate was hilarious, quite unexpected and nearly ended with the both of us dying."

 

The archer nodded a little as if to prompt the ex-commander to tell his tale.

 

"We were in a dire situation in the middle of the Omnic crisis. Trapped for days in the ruins of a building, with just a couple of MRE's and barely enough water." His voice took a distant timbre as he reminisced. "My companion had a dislocated shoulder and at least three broken fingers, I had a mild concussion and a couple of broken ribs."

 

"With no visible exit we fought the enemy until we ran out of ammo, we weren't expecting an evac any time soon so we settled for talking in the meantime." Jack sighed loudly, "We needed an escape plan but in our state that was nearly impossible without any sort of back-up, we sent an SOS signal and hoped for the best. We knew that outside the enemy was gathering and would eventually attack us."

 

Hanzo's undivided attention was given to the soldier, for he was more than aware that Morrison was not a man who would easily tell any information about his past.

 

"And you see, that same day we sent the SOS signal, we were attacked. He was injured when the rain of bullets from a Bastion unit caught us by surprise and I had to carry him." He paused for a short moment and the archer knew this was quite painful for the old soldier to talk about, since his soulmate was not within his reach anymore. "I ran as fast as I could with Gabe in my arms, I thought he was dead... but then, I noticed a strangle glow coming from the hand he was using to try to stop the bleeding on his side." 

 

There was a moment of silence between them, the lights overhead were being reflected by the soldier's visor.

 

"When we reached a safe spot, as I was setting him down I noticed he had taken a hold of my hand." on that moment Jack stared at the remnants of his own thread of fate, the red glow was slightly brighter than before. As if by recalling better times he had given a little bit of life back to his own bond. "He asked me, _'Hey Jack, do you see that? Or has my blood loss gotten so bad that I'm hallucinating now?'_ I laughed when he told me that, because I believed I was seeing things as well."

 

"I remember I said, _'I see it too.'_ and he looked at me relieved," the soldier laughed for a short moment and Hanzo was still at a loss of words. "I asked him what he thought and he told me that it would be rather awkward not to do something about those feelings he had been harboring for a while..."

 

"What did you tell him when he admitted to his feelings?" the Shimada heir inquired.

 

"I told him that we better got out there alive, because even if the bond was there we both deserved a date night, just to make things official." Hanzo smiled at those words, it was quite heartwarming to see that side of the ex-commander. To know that he had once known love and a soul-bond even if it had been short lived.

 

"He grabbed my hand and told me not to let go, because he wasn't going to let go either. I had to find a way for us both to get out of there, I needed him to be safe." Jack sighed and then faced the archer once more, "That's how the rescue team found us. The rest... It's a tale for another day."

 

"I understand..." the archer spoke slowly, as he allowed the tale to sink in, "Thank you for sharing your story with me, I know it must be difficult for you to do so."

 

"If it helps you to see reason, then it's worth it Shimada." The soldier admitted, "Besides, there's no point to have two unhappy people in here when they clearly mean the world to each other."

 

The archer remained silent after those words had been said.

 

"Always remember that first time you just knew it was him, that'll always remind you of who is waiting for you at the end of the thread." With those last words, the soldier left the archer behind in order to begin a battle simulation.

 

* * *

 

 

Hanzo went back to his room, took a shower and then decided to walk around the watchpoint whilst avoiding the corridors that were the most prominently used by the rest of the agents. He needed to clear his mind and allow his thoughts to settle. In hopes to achieve that, the archer found himself in front of the kitchen's doorway. It took him a few moments to make up his mind and walk in, although he was still unsure as to how he even ended up wandering toward the kitchen.

 

Since he was there, the archer decided to prepare some tea. Yet, as Hanzo stepped into the spacious kitchen, he found Reinhardt in there.

 

The old German warrior seemed to be at home, whistling loudly as he baked some cookies. The smell of the baked goods had spread all over the place; the sweet aroma of the pastries reminded Hanzo of an old bakery that he used to visit as a child alongside his brother.

 

The archer smiled as he noticed that the apron that Reinhardt was wearing did not quite fit the Crusader, and neither did the comically small oven mitts.

 

“Ah, my friend! It is nice to have you here.” Wilhelm greeted the archer, his tone animated and as loud as always. As if he had done so everyday, despite the fact that Hanzo was never seen anywhere else but in the field while they were deployed for missions, the training simulations and in the briefings that were held weekly.

 

But that was how Reinhardt had always been; a warm, friendly and very welcoming person who liked to make others feel at home.

 

“Greetings Mr. Wilhelm.” the archer replied.

 

“What brings you here?” the Crusader inquired, a tray filled with cookies fresh form the oven was balanced on Reinhardt's right hand.

 

“I merely wished to make some tea.”

 

“Ah, by all means!” the tall warrior moved to the side after setting the pastries over a cooling rack, “Don't let me stop you.”

 

“Thank you.” Hanzo gave a slight nod.

 

“No need to thank me my friend! This kitchen belongs to all of us, except for Genji... he can't cook even if his life depended on it.” the warrior joked while he then proceeded to raise his arm in order to reach for another metallic tray to fill with dough for the next batch of cookies.

 

Hanzo smiled, for that statement was more than true.

 

A peaceful silence descended between them. The archer focused on filling the kettle with water and as he reached over the stove, Hanzo took a closer look at Reinhardt's left hand.

 

The crusader's thread of fate was broken and almost completely faded away. The Shimada heir had seen it before but never stopped long enough to ponder about it as he never considered it to be any of his business if somebody's string was broken or not; but the fading scarlet of the broken link on Wilhelm's hand made the archer feel quite sad. He wanted to inquire as to what had happened to the other person but dared not to do so, for it was not his place to make such a question.

 

Hanzo wondered if his thread would look the same if he was to cut it. Would the remnants of his string of fate become a sad reminder of things that could have been if he was to sever it?

 

“It is good what you did for McCree.” the warrior spoke, Wilhelm's words brought Hanzo out of his reverie. The silent spell that had befallen the kitchen was broken. “Not only for him, but for the two of you as a whole. You did a lot for your soulmate, and I believe that second chances are rare and should be treasured.”

 

“How do you know he is my soulmate?”

 

Was _everybody_  made aware of it? and if so, _who_ told them?

 

“It was more than obvious my friend.” the crusader explained, “you put yourself in great peril just to bring him back, and that is the true essence of those who are fated to be together. I don't need to see the strings on other people to know what they mean to one another.”

 

The archer nodded after hearing such words as he found himself unable to use his voice, he was quite surprised to say the least.

 

“I am glad he has you,” Reinhardt said, “You demonstrated more bravery than many I have known and you deserve to be happy by his side.”

 

“How so?” the archer wished to appear nonchalant about the whole situation for he wished to detach himself as much as possible before he was able to cut the thread. Hanzo sighed loudly, “Seems to me as if he would be better off not knowing about our connection at all.”

 

“Do not say that,” the crusader spoke softly then smiled at the archer. Although the crusader's smile was anything but happy, for it gave away the deep sadness he was holding in his heart. “you are lucky to have found your soulmate.”

 

“Do you speak from experience perhaps?” the Shimada heir inquired.

 

“Indeed I do, for you see...” the one eyed warrior stared down at the floor for a few moments and took in a deep breath. “I lost mine even before I was able to meet them.”

 

Hanzo remained silent as Wilhelm began his story.

 

“It was during the Omnic Crisis.” he explained, “I used to be able to hear a distant song ever since I could remember. It would come and go as it pleased but I was never truly without it; until one day after a truly gruesome battle I saw my string of fate as a whole for the first and last time.”

 

Reinhardt's voice became nothing more than a whisper, “I saw the thread glow as bright as the mid-day sun and then a moment later it broke and the song was no more.” Hanzo felt as if his heart was being crushed under the weight of an iron grip as he heard the crusader's voice filled with regret and longing.

 

“After they died I felt completely empty, and to this day I still do.” Reinhardt said as a single tear rolled down the side of his face. “Is like a hole in one's soul that cannot be filled.”

 

On that moment Hanzo wondered if he would end up feeling the same after cutting the string.

 

Would he be able to live with _that_?

 

He had always been able to see the thread and found Jesse from time to time in his dreams as well.

 

Could he live on without those?

 

The silence was broken as the warrior spoke once more, “I heard the tune in the radio a few days after the string was cut and something inside of me broke. I felt as if my soul had been torn apart.” the Crusader explained, "I realized I never saw their face nor ever heard their laughter... and that I never would get the chance to do so either."

 

The archer had been rendered speechless and on that same moment began to doubt once more. If that was the result of a broken link on the one that remained alive, he imagined what it would be and how it would affect Jesse as well.

 

Neither of them were dead, but cutting the thread would feel just as if they were. Reinhardt had been quite affected by it and he hadn't even been aware of the existence of his own string of fate until it was too late.

 

Hanzo then imagined how the cowboy would feel and he regretted it immediately.

 

He could not do it, but he was still determined to nonetheless.

 

 _'Jesse will be better off without me.'_ he thought, but then realized that the part of himself that wished for the thread to be gone was becoming less and less persistent.

 

But was he willing to make McCree suffer an unnecessary separation?

 

“I forgot to tell you that I was the one that tied your hands together with the silk ribbon before I carried you over onto the bed.” the larger man explained, “It seemed important for your hands to remain entwined, so I tied them down.”

 

Hanzo stared at the fading and broken string dangling from the warrior's hand.

 

It was nearly gone.

 

Would he be able to live with the knowledge that he was the one who brought onto McCree the same fate that had afflicted the crusader? The same sorrow and despair?

 

A broken thread would be the last remnant of every unfulfilled promise and every moment that they would never come to share together.

 

Hanzo was lost inside of his own thoughts when the kettle boiled over. As he took a container that was filled with his preferred tea blend he made a simple question to Reinhardt, who was on that moment preparing another batch of cookies.

 

“If you ever had the chance to find them and tell them about the thread, would you have done so?” the archer inquired as he kept his hands busy with the pouring of the tea.

 

The one-eyed warrior laughed out loud, “In a heartbeat.”

 

Hanzo nodded after receiving the answer, then was surprised as the taller man handed him a plate filled to the brim with cookies.

 

“Here,” he said, “Take these to McCree. You two can share them.”

 

The archer nodded along, “Of course.” his voice almost completely absent. It had occurred to him that none of this was his own choice to make; that Jesse was involved as well, even if he was unaware.

 

Hanzo gathered the plate with the pastries and the tea on a tray and began to make his way out of the kitchen, he stopped by the door. His eyes set upon the crusader's broken thread and then on his own. The bright crimson glow seemed livelier on that moment.

 

“Thank you.” the Shimada heir said.

 

“No need to thank me, my friend.” Reinhardt replied knowingly, for there was no need to say anything more. “Don't throw away such a precious gift. I would never want to see anyone going through any of what I had to face.”

 

With that, the archer began to make his way toward the medical bay. His cowboy was waiting for him and he should not tarry any longer.

 

But first, he had to take a small detour.

 

* * *

 

 

Hanzo had noticed the broken link on Reinhardt's hand and the blackened one in Soldier 76's ever since he had set foot on the watchpoint for the first time. In Morrison's case, it had been as if it had been burned on some parts. At times it glowed, and at some other times seemed to banish from existence. On those moments the soldier seemed saddened but also resigned, as if he had been living through it for so long that it would not surprise him if it would definitely fade away one day.

 

As the archer made his way back into his room as fast as he could, he thought about all that had been said to him through the day. He had come to learn three valuable lessons. Zenyatta had the seed of hopeful uncertainty, Jack with perseverance and Reinhardt with loss; and after thinking them over, the archer came to the realization that he indeed had at least pondered upon them more than once.

 

He had been hopeful about his string of fate in his younger years, by the time he had met Jesse that hope was still there even though he had been uncertain as to what the future would bring. As the years passed, he had to persevere through hardships that came at him one after the other and yet his hope for the string and the future it promised helped him to continue and now...

 

When he had heard what could be... and everything he would lose... everything that they would _both_ lose, he desired not to bring any of that upon Jesse or himself.

 

They deserved a chance.

 

Hanzo arrived to his chambers in a hurry. Set the tray down and proceeded to take the wooden box from the drawer where he usually kept it, the idea behind it was to show Jesse the old mementos he stored in it. Among the treasures he had kept since he was a child there was Jesse's old red neckerchief, the photos and notes he got from the cowboy when hey were teens and needed to plan their dates accordingly. All of his most valued treasures were there, except for the silken ribbon, since it had been tied to McCree's wrist last time the archer had set eyes upon it.

 

After Hanzo made sure to have everything at hand, he picked the tray back up and made his way toward the med-bay, a smile adorning his face and his heart beating fast with anticipation.

 

Yet upon his arrival to the room where the cowboy was located, the Shimada heir hesitated. The closed door made him feel apprehensive; as if it was a dead end in a dark corridor. He knew not what to expect and that made him want to turn around and leave everything as it was. As time passed, his uncertainty grew stronger. The door remained closed and his eyes were eyes were set upon it. As if he would find answers in a mere inanimate object.

 

It would be so simple just to open it and make his way inside, but... what _then_?

 

How would he begin his conversation with McCree?

 

Was the sharpshooter even willing to listen to Hanzo?

 

Would McCree consider Hanzo's help an invasion to his mind?

 

The archer stepped back from the entrance, his hands holding onto the tray as if it was a lifeline. It was better to leave it at that, he had already said his farewell to the cowboy when he was still in his subconscious; there was no need for him to do anything else.

 

Everything had been said and done and words could not be taken back. He had accepted that fact and was willing to live with it. Besides, he was still counting with the notion that the sharpshooter would not be able to recall much, or perhaps nothing at all of what had been said between them.

 

The archer nodded silently and stepped back once more, his eyes set upon the bright corridor as the last vestiges of sunlight that had filtered through the heavy clouds announced the end of the day. The windows allowed the rays of light to bounce off the pearly white walls giving the space an almost out-worldly appearance.

 

Hanzo took in a deep breath and continued to step away from the door, acceptance weighed heavy in his heart but so did resignation as well. He had done what needed to be done and McCree would live, he should be happy for it.

 

He was glad, yet saddened at the same time.

 

The cowboy was alive, but they would both have to continue living as they had been before everything that had happened. They would go back to pretending that they never had crossed paths before, and Hanzo would accept it quietly; for he had no other choice.

 

Even after all he had been told, and everything he had seen, he was still not strong enough to accept the fact that there was a probability that Jesse would want him even if the thread was not to be acknowledged by the gunslinger, but that was a possibility that the archer knew was nearly null.

 

He did not wish to face rejection, and that was the truth.

 

The archer began to walk away as quietly as he could then, but before he could get away from the door completely, Jesse's muffled voice called him over and stopped the archer from getting away any further.

 

“I know you're there darlin'.” the cowboy announced, “Come in, please? We need to talk.”

 

With a sigh of resignation the archer complied and made his way into the small room. His nervousness was more than evident but the moment he laid eyes upon Jesse and the dragons, who were currently playing with the string of fate as if it was merely a toy, his hesitation dissipated and instead he felt rather confused.

 

“What are you two doing here?” the archer remarked pointedly while staring at the two spirits, in exchange, both dragons ignored him in favor of continuing playing with the thread.

 

“Didn't you sent them over?” the cowboy inquired.

 

“No, I did not.” the archer replied curtly as he was setting the tray over the side-table. Hanzo took notice of the stacked cards and fresh flowers over the metallic surface.

 

“Cookies!” the gunslinger cheered while reaching over to grab a couple of the pastries. “Thanks pumpkin.”

 

“Mister Wilhelm was kind enough to send them to you. I am merely the messenger, for he was the one who baked them.” the Shimada heir stated whilst avoiding eye contact with the gunslinger.

 

“My thanks to ol' Rein.” the cowboy said after taking a bite from one of the crumbly pastries. “He's always been the best baker I know.”

 

The archer remained silent and as still as a marble statue as he stood by the side of the bed; he also began contemplating the possibility of simply getting out of the room before everything became rather awkward.

 

“I should get going.” Hanzo announced, “Drink the tea as well, I made it with your health in mind.”

 

“What? So soon?” the cowboy questioned. “Why don't ya take a seat?”

 

“I do not wish to impose, and you require rest.”

 

“Nonsense darlin', you're never imposin' on me and...” McCree hesitated, “I think we sort of need to... talk?”

 

“That can wait until you are feeling better.” the archer tried to bargain. Truth to be told, he had lost his nerve. “Although, I am uncertain as to what you need to address.”

 

The cowboy frowned and then lowered his eyes, his stare directed to his hands, specifically to the thread of fate.

 

“Hanzo please, just take a seat and let's talk. We have to.” Jesse's steady voice filled the room.

 

After a few long minutes the archer complied, as he took a seat by the side of the bed, the plastic chair seemed more uncomfortable than before. It was then that Hanzo finally took his time to truly observe McCree.

 

That beautiful sun kissed skin had lost the deathly parlor and had returned to its original color. Jesse also seemed overall in high spirits and more alert. He still appeared to be rather tired, but it was nothing that a few days of rest could not solve.

 

Yet Hanzo still had no idea as to how begin the conversation, he remained in his seat, eyes going from the dragons to the thread and then to Jesse.

 

They both remained as such until McCree broke the silence.

 

“Why didn't you tell me?”

 

The cowboy went straight to the point for there was no reason to sugarcoat the reason why they were having that conversation to begin with.

 

“Would it have made a difference?” the archer asked, he then directed his stare at the cowboy's face.

 

“Yes, it would've made all the difference.” the gunslinger affirmed, “I would've stayed with you, made it work somehow so we could've been together.”

 

The archer tilted his head and stared once more at the string that linked them both. It would have been easier to just cut it off and spare them all the pain they had gone through because of it.

 

But cutting it would only cause more pain as well. Hanzo felt _trapped_.

 

“Would you have felt forced to stay by my side if you had known?” the Shimada heir inquired. His voice lower and his eyes trained upon the ground then.

 

He dreaded the possible response he would get.

 

Jesse felt as if everything around him began to fall apart. He knew then and there what was plaguing the archer.

 

It was doubt.

 

“No Hanzo.” he stated, “You know how stubborn I am, anythin' I do you know I do it 'cause I _want to_. No one can force me to do what I don't wanna do.”

 

The archer nodded in response.

 

“Darlin'...” Jesse called. His voice a mere whisper, “What I told you back then it's still true.”

 

“And what is that, Mr. McCree?” Hanzo questioned, his voice mellow.

 

“That I'm _yours_ , whether there's a string or not connectin' us.”

 

“Even after all this time?”

 

“You waited for so long for me to actually see the string that it's only fair I waited for you darlin'.” the cowboy replied. An easy smile spreading on his lips. “And I know what you did to save me. I remember it all.”

 

Hanzo did not move from the chair for a few minutes, neither did he speak and McCree awaited patiently for him to do so. Yet, he was aware that rushing the conversation would not bear any fruit, and so he stared at the dragons instead. Their small spiritual manifestations still played with the string of fate without a care in the world.

 

“Then you remember?”

 

“Everythin'...” the cowboy stated, “Every word we said and everythin' else in between.”

 

Hanzo remained quiet. He pondered upon the words that McCree had just spoken and still could not say anything.

 

Had the dragons always been aware of all of _this_?

 

All that had come to pass, they knew about and told nothing to him?

 

“Since when have you been able to see the thread of fate?” the archer inquired instead. He had decided that he would question his guardian spirits at a later date.

 

“Since I got shot.” the gunslinger confessed, “I blinked and it was there, tied to your hand. I tried to tell you but I couldn't.”

 

“I see.” the archer replied.

 

Afterwards, both men became silent.

 

Hanzo's inner turmoil became louder. Had he cut the thread he would have harmed the cowboy without even meaning it.

 

He almost brought harm upon Jesse. He wouldn't have been able to live with himself if he had done so. Whether it was on purpose or not, McCree would have been harmed and that was something he did not wish for it to happen.

 

“I have something to show you then.” the archer said, effectively breaking the heavy silence that had befallen upon them.

 

Without much ceremony, Hanzo reached for the wooden box he had left over the tray. The tea and cookies had been all but forgotten. He opened the lid slowly, noticing how McCree began to scoot closer to the edge of the mattress in order to have a better look.

 

The first thing Hanzo took out from the wooden container were the photos. Gray-scale and faded at the corners. He handed them to Jesse, who took them and smiled while he did so.

 

“Glad to know you still have them.” the cowboy said. A smile upon his lips as he traced Hanzo's face over the glossy photograph. “I remember this as if it had been yesterday.”

 

“As do I.”

 

A peaceful silence was shared between them until the archer rummaged once more inside of the box and extracted a few notes he showed to Jesse; the cowboy laughed at them.

 

“You kept those too!” he smiled, “I loved sendin' you those! Though I was always giddy 'cause I always thought someone was gonna find out.”

 

Hanzo's laughter filled the room and Jesse followed through afterwards.

 

“Oh, indeed cowboy.” the archer said, “For what is a romantic pursuit without moments such as those?”

 

“Yer right on that, darlin'.”

 

“Here.” the Shimada heir announced as he handed Jesse the old red neckerchief. It was neatly folded and the color was barely faded out.

 

“Well, I'll be dammed!” the gunner said in awe, “You still have it.”

 

“Indeed I do.”

 

Jesse laughed. “Well darlin', I'm glad you did keep all of this.” he said as he raised his right hand. The string of fate a bright scarlet contrasting with his skin, “I got this as a memento,” the gunslinger pointed at the golden ribbon. The rich golden color was made brighter by the lights overhead. “woke up with it tied to my wrist.”

 

“Though, I would've wanted to have somethin' else to remember you by.” the cowboy added. “But after all you did I realized that I have it all in my heart and memory and that I don't need nothin' more.”

 

The archer reached over the tray to set down the wooden box and took a hold of the tea kettle and poured some of the concoction in a cup, then offered it to Jesse.

 

“Here.”

 

“Thanks Han--” he stopped abruptly, “Can I call you by your name?”

 

“You already did so when you asked me to take a seat and talk.” the archer replied, mirth evident in his tone.

 

“Can I continue then?” the apprehension was evident in McCree's voice, as if he expected to be denied of such a simple request.

 

“By all means cowboy.”

 

“Thank you Hanzo.” with that, he took a sip of the herbal beverage, savoring the minty aftertaste of it.

 

“You do not need to thank me... Jesse.”

 

The cowboy smiled at the archer, “I love to hear you saying my name.”

 

They both paused and eyed one another and then the thread of fate. The dragons had long since left them to their own devices.

 

“You know,” McCree began, “when I was bleeding out after losing my arm I saw you. Your presence was faint and there were voices telling me to wait for you and that we would be reunited soon.” the cowboy confessed.

 

“I thought that had been a dream.” the Shimada heir mentioned, “Seems as if either the thread or the dragons made it happen.”

 

“You think we can give this a chance?”

 

“I must be honest with you...” the archer confessed, “I was considering cutting the thread.”

 

A strangled noise made its way out of the gunslinger's mouth, but he remained quiet as he noticed that Hanzo was about to continue talking.

 

“I doubted so much and I though you would not want to be with me.” the archer said. His words a whisper. “But after you told me you remember it all, I wonder if I can hold you to your promise.”

 

“To be with you forever?”

 

“Yes, that would be the one.” Hanzo dared not to hope for much, yet his traitorous heart began to beat at a faster rate.

 

He truly did not know what to expect. Or perhaps he already knew the outcome and refused to accept it.

 

The cowboy sat down on the bed, a grimace marring his face. He was worried.

 

Not because he was going to reject Hanzo, but because he did not know how to convey all that he was feeling on that exact moment.

 

“Hanzo,” McCree said the name with such reverence that the archer felt humbled every time the cowboy called him by his given name. “I would wait for you until the end of time itself. All I said before I meant it as much then as I do now. I never stopped loving you when I was not aware of the thread, and to be honest if you give me the chance, I would never let you go now either.”

 

A single tear rolled down Hanzo's face, “I am glad to hear that.” he said as he made his way over to the bed. He took the empty cup from Jesse's hand and placed it back on the table as the cowboy made room for the archer to lay down beside him.

 

“I'm glad I found you back then my darlin'.” the cowboy confessed as he felt the warmth from the archer's body by his side. “and I'm glad you went to look for me as well... I was lost without you... you're my Northern star... my guidin' light.”

 

As Hanzo got on the bed and lied down by Jesse's side, they held hands and smiled. The universe was not an easy place to live in. Life is not meant to coddle anyone, it is full of hardships and sorrow and yet, they both had found a place in each other's heart. A home. A safe place and they could not ask for more.

 

“For the longest time I believed you were tied to someone else.” the gunner confessed, his voice low and steady. “I thought I had lost you to some faceless individual and that I had to live with that.”

 

“I am glad it has been you all along. For I could not see myself spending my life beside anyone else.” Hanzo whispered.

 

“You can say that again, darlin'.” McCree said.

 

Hanzo closed his eyes as the first drops of rain began to hit the window. Jesse's heart fluttered, for his archer was with him. They both fell asleep in each other's arms with a contented smile upon their lips and lightness in their hearts. The string of fate glowed a bright crimson and the dragons watched over them both.

 

Long lost lovers finally finding respite in an embrace that was long overdue.

 

Nothing was perfect and they had still a long way to go, but this was a beginning and they would walk down that road together taking one step a a time. Sharing both, joy and sadness but never losing sight of what had always been important, for they held each other's hearts upon the palms of their hands.

 


	17. One More Tomorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter is here and I want to thank you all for your support through this journey.
> 
> Thank you for your patience and for all your comments and kudos and for giving this story a chance even though the premise sounds quite bizarre as I was once told by a person when I posted it for the first time before I deleted it back then.
> 
> I'm grateful that you invested time of your day to read this story, and let me tell you that without you all this story would have been nothing more than a simple author shouting to the void.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this chapter and while you're reading it I recommend you to listen to the following songs: 
> 
>  
> 
> _-Happy Times by Bob Crosby and The Bobcats_  
>  - _One More Tomorrow by Frankie Carle_ (which inspired the title for this chapter.)

* * *

 

As twilight gave way to early evening, the temperature went down and the rain continued to fall. Both men had fallen asleep as the raindrops produced a lullaby by hitting the crystal of the window.

 

For Jesse it felt surreal.

 

It was as if he was still in a dream. Hanzo was by his side and as he caressed the side of the archer's face; tracing the side of the strong nose and the high cheekbones with the tip of his index finger, Jesse smiled. For it was neither a dream nor a hallucination after all.

 

Hanzo was there. _Warm_ and _real_.

 

The cowboy could not have been any happier.

 

When he came to, he had expected the whole conversation to be nothing more than a dream fueled by a fit of wishful thinking. A simple piece of his imagination made up by his subconscious so that he would not feel alone, but it was not as he had expected. His archer was there and he dared not to wake him up as he feared it would break the fragile atmosphere.

 

McCree's eyes traveled from the handsome face he had in front of him to the thread of fate. The link between them, was glowing a bright crimson that reminded him that he had found something more precious than all the gold in the world. He would have chosen to be with Hanzo whether the thread was there or not, and yet he was grateful for its existence.

 

Although he had quite a few questions in his head.

 

Was his attraction towards Hanzo a result of the string of fate? Or a mere aspect of it?

 

He mussed over it for a while, his right hand holding onto the archer's left. Hanzo's warmth permeated the cowboy's skin in the same way that the early morning sun engulfs the earth, gently chasing away the cold of the night.

 

McCree touched the back of Hanzo's hand with his lips.

 

“I'm glad you're here.” he whispered, “After all this time, I'm just happy to have you by my side Hanzo.”

 

And those words could not hold any more truth than that.

 

“I thought I had lost you after I left back then... I believed that you were happy with someone else after all this time and look at us now...” McCree continued whispering. He refused to speak any louder for he was loathe to break the quiet atmosphere that had befallen the room. Also, he was more than sure that Hanzo was exhausted beyond belief, if those prominent dark circles under the archer's eyes were anything to go by.

 

“I still wonder why you never said anything about that double-dammed thread though...” Jesse reproached. “It would've made all the difference.”

 

“Because,” the archer replied. His eyes were still closed and his voice was nothing more than a sleepy murmur. “It would have been of no use, cowboy.”

 

Hanzo began to stir and Jesse's mussing came to a stop as the archer woke up completely, albeit, slowly so.

 

After he had woken up from the coma, it had been more than obvious to Jesse that Hanzo had been avoiding him. Perhaps the archer had expected to be shunned away by the cowboy or merely wished to avoid any type of confrontation; but truth to be told, McCree had never wanted to see someone with such desperation as he desired to see Hanzo when he had opened his eyes.

 

He stared at the Shimada heir, the sparse light did not allow him to see well enough as to make out the expression that Hanzo held on his face.

 

Hanzo remained motionless. As if he was expecting everything to be a dream that would shatter if he dared to open his eyes. The minutes seemed to stretch into hours as he waited for it to be so.

 

For his part, McCree expected the Shimada heir to bolt.

 

Would Hanzo run and pretend that they did not held a lengthy conversation before they both fell asleep?

 

McCree was more than sure that uncertainty plagued them both, but neither should allow it to take hold for longer than necessary. With that in mind, his doubt was short lasting for he still held onto his belief that he would gladly choose Hanzo time and time again with or without the thread of fate.

 

“What time is it?” the archer questioned. His voice was raspy with disuse and his eyes were barely open.

 

“Must be around midnight.” the gunslinger mumbled in response.

 

After a handful of seconds as the silence took over again, McCree spoke. For he knew one of them had to break the ice.

 

“Hanzo,” he began. “I need you to know that I loved you then, I love you now and I will love you forever and a day.”

 

The Shimada heir seemed unsure as to how to respond, at that, the cowboy took it upon himself to reassure his archer that everything would be fine. That they both deserved _another_ chance.

 

Even if sometimes neither of them believed that they actually deserved it.

 

“I know it's been hard... for us both.” Jesse whispered as he moved closer to Hanzo and held onto the archer's calloused hand. “But we're together in this. And the fact that we're connected by this thread, it only makes it more real somehow.”

 

“Would you say the same if the string of fate was not there to connect us?” the archer's voice seemed hollow. As if by asking that question their fragile connection would break.

 

“If I could turn back time my darlin', I would do it all over again.” McCree replied.

 

“Everything can be done with the time we are given, except make it stand still or go back.” Hanzo replied, for it was true. Time was an unrelenting river that would only run in a single direction. Never stops and never forgives either.

 

“Yeah, I know but,” the ex-Blackwatch agent said, “We're going to give it a shot, right?”

 

Hanzo was hesitant to answer.

 

What if he was still dreaming?

 

But as the archer felt Jesse's warm hand squeeze his, the doubt seemed to dissipate.

 

“We can certainly... try.” Hanzo replied. His heart rate became erratic and Jesse was not faring any better either. It was as if they were teenagers all over again.

 

With that, the cowboy touched Hanzo's face and gave a butterfly light kiss to the archer's lips.

 

Silence reigned once more as they embraced each other and allowed sleep to take over them.

 

Outside, the rain continued to fall.

 

 

* * *

 

 

As time passed and in the same way that a painting begins as a single stroke of paint over a canvas, so did their relationship start. It was a tentative friendship at first, for they had to learn anew what they had known about one another in the past, but also adjust to their present and impending future together. Timid conversations were had and they shared their preferred liquor as both men observed the distant waves as they traversed the ocean. Their lives began to take a turn, and just as a thread is woven into a beautifully decorated linen, so did their relationship flourish as time passed by.

 

Though they both believed that lonesomeness becomes them, for they were used to it, yet the transition from friendship to an actual relationship had been quite smooth. Sometimes it felt as if no time had passed at all.

 

As if they had never been apart during all those years.

 

At some moments the cowboy was surprised of how much they had both changed and yet remained the same at heart. Hanzo was still strong willed and quite determined but just as McCree did, the archer had been ravaged by a life filled with unfairness and hardships as well. They both had lost it all at some point.

 

They both had been at their lowest and recurring to alcohol to find solace when the ghosts of their past haunted them in their long sleepless nights, as screams and faces that should have been forgotten years ago resurfaced within their minds.

 

It is said that the deepest and most meaningful of connections often engulf the thread in gold, others say that the reason for that is that the pair has gained the favor of the fates and the spirits themselves. Whatever it was, Hanzo was grateful for it, as he had taken notice of how the thread that linked them often glowed brightly with a golden light around it. He had fought for what he had and was more than glad to be able to share it with Jesse.

 

Would this be permanent? Were they going to be together until death would inevitably tear them apart?

 

Only time would tell.

 

One evening as they sat under the stars an unexpected conversation began between them.

 

“Did you ever consider, you know...” the cowboy hesitated for a short moment, “To just keep on pretending you did not know me or that the thread was not there?”

 

The archer took a small sip from his glass of sake, his eyes set upon the distant constellations that graced the dark sky.

 

“The greatest risk we all take is to bare our hearts and be seen as we truly are,” Hanzo replied, his answer almost a whisper. “and our greatest fear is to be rejected for it so.”

 

In all honesty, Jesse never thought he would have ever been enough to be with the equivalent of a prince in his mind.

 

He thought that his love would never be enough. That _he_ himself would never be enough either.

 

“That's true.” Jesse nodded along with his words and moved closer to Hanzo. His bourbon nearly sloshing over the glass as he did so. “I expected you to reject me so many times back then.”

 

The archer then lowered his eyes, he ignored the celestial bodies in order to focus on the cowboy.

 

“I would have never refused you back then.” Hanzo said, his voice low and steady. “Never would have pushed you away either.”

 

“I'm glad to hear that.” McCree smiled at the archer, “When I saw you for the first time I was drawn to you. As if an invisible force guided me towards you, honeybee.”

 

“You were my first true taste of freedom and my small piece of heaven.” Hanzo confessed, “You still are to this day, and I think you always will be.”

 

“You know Hanzo, I can say the same about you as well.”

 

As they continued to reminisce about the past, Jesse wrapped both of their upper bodies with the serape. The small cocoon provided them with warmth and as their bodies touched both men smiled.

 

Hanzo remembered how when he had been on the run from the Shimada-gumi the only thing that often gave him hope was the fact that the thread was still there. It was the only guarantee he had that Jesse was alive. Maybe in the arms of somebody else, but alive nonetheless.

 

On Jesse's part, the memory of Hanzo kept him company for the longest time. Whether it had been when he was completing missions for Balckwatch or on the run after the fall of Overwatch, the archer's smile and his warm eyes were treasured memories that McCree often reminisced about whenever he felt loneliness taking a grip over him.

 

He held onto the hope that he would one day was to have Hanzo by his side once more.

 

It occurred to Hanzo that the old saying he often heard from one of his mentors was true. That it was impossible to stop an arrow once it has been released from the bowstring. He thought about how his meeting with Jesse had been something that the Fates themselves had deemed as an inevitable event.

 

Both men had been through a lot and they had been together and apart yet, there they were, in each other's arms.

 

In their shared room, a woven tapestry made of photographs connected by red yarn covered part of the wall that was closer to the window. In the center of it all, among all the images they had both collected as they had shared dates, missions and training as well as drinks under the moon and the stars; there were the photograph strips of them both in the summer festival years ago. The photos all forming a constellation of memories cherished and special as they surrounded the pictures that started it all in the same way that the planets dance around the sun.

 

Those images were a testimony of two souls that had once been lost and had finally found solace and a place to belong. For after all they had been through, what they desired the most, was to leave behind their pasts and aim towards a new beginning. 

 

A better life side by side and as time went on, Hanzo and Jesse became closer.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The mission in Hanamura had been a success.

 

Overwatch had managed to stop the negotiations between the remnants of the Shimada empire and Talon. The team had stormed the castle and they had been able to complete their endeavor nearly unscathed.

 

Hanzo, after everything had come to an end, made his way to the same spot where his old practice targets had been located. The old objects that were made out of hay and wood were surprisingly still standing on the same place. As if the clan had expected him to return one day.

 

As if not a single day had passed after he had left.

 

He took Stormbow in his hands and shot an arrow, the fallen petals of the cherry blossom trees flew away along with the projectile. The archer stood in silence as the sweet smell of the flowers reminded him of better times. The bright rays of sunlight made the flowers look brighter somehow.

 

The Shimada heir felt at peace as he closed his eyes, he felt how the warmth of the sun rays that filtered through the spaces between the leaves of the trees warmed him over as if a blanket had been lain over him.

 

“Pretty handy with that bow.” McCree said. His words made Hanzo laugh.

 

The archer's mirth reminded Jesse of warm summer days. His heart fluttered at the thought. 

 

“I still can not believe I have once more set foot in this place.”

 

Jesse moved closer to the archer, “Yeah, seems as if it was only yesterday when we met for the first time darlin'.” the cowboy replied, “Right under this tree. You were a sight for sore eyes.”

 

Hanzo faced the gunslinger then, and smiled as more petals made their way down towards the ground. “Oh, but you are quite wrong cowboy.” the archer said.

 

“How so?” McCree inquired as he placed both hands over Hanzo's waist.

 

“We did meet before.” the Shimada heir whispered as their faces became closer.

 

“Where?” Jesse asked as his lips brushed Hanzo's.

 

“Once upon a dream.” the archer said before their lips finally touched.

 

The kiss lasted but a few seconds and as it ended, the cowboy took Hanzo's hand and gave a glance to the string of fate.

 

“Follow me.” Jesse said, a determined expression  was set on his face.

 

The archer agreed and they both made their way to the same place in the garden where Hanzo had usually rested when he had been a teenager. The spot nearby the Koi pond, where the Shimada heir was usually found sitting among the roots of the Sakura tree, reading old poetry books more often than not. The cherry blossoms and the wisteria tree had covered the ground with a beautiful carpet made out of flowers in colors that went from the palest pink to the brightest purple.

 

“I remember when you read that poem for me the first time, honeybee.” Jesse said as he took a seat under the tree and Hanzo had followed suit as well.

 

“I do remember it as well, albeit quite differently.” the archer smiled, “You fell asleep on my shoulder.”

 

“Yeah...” the cowboy averted his eyes for a moment. “I didn't mean to do that, but your voice's so charming that I couldn't help it. You could be reading the dictionary and I would listen to the whole thing.”

 

Hanzo smiled at those words, “I would do the same as well if you were to read a whole dictionary to me.” he replied as he took Jesse's hand in his. "I find your voice to be quite soothing."

 

“You know, I wanna ask you something.” the cowboy nearly whispered. Jesse then took a hold of Hanzo's left hand for a short moment, and once again stared at the string of fate.

 

“I am listening.” the archer said as the cowboy had let go of his hand.

 

It was as if time had stood still. Jesse's face became completely blank as he finally tried to voice out his question, the Stetson held firmly between his hands as he worried over the old material in such a way that Hanzo believed the poor hat was going to break apart.

 

“I don't wanna beat around the bush..." McCree began. His voice filled with doubt. "and this may be a little precipitated and kinda... too soon or out of the blue and I don't have a ring on me, but I gotta ask bef-”

 

Hanzo paced a short kiss over the cowboy's lips, in the same way Jesse had done all of those years ago when Hanzo had spoken in a similar manner. “My cowboy, please calm down.”

 

The gunslinger nodded, his hand became sweaty. “Yeah, so... I should get to the point.”

 

The archer agreed patiently, as a gentle smile adorned his face. “Indeed you should.”

 

“Well then darlin',” McCree cleared his throat and straightened his back, then a moment later took in a deep breath. “Will you marry me?”

 

The archer stared into the eyes of the cowboy trying to find a hint of a lie or a jest, yet he found none.

 

Hanzo felt how his heart began to beat faster and his mouth became dry.

 

Was he dreaming?

 

The archer did not even realize when he had shed a few silent tears that Jesse had wiped away with his thumb.

 

McCree awaited calmly for the answer, as the cherry blossom flowers fell around them in a way similar to that of a curtain. The sweet smell of the garden was a welcome addition to such a sight.

 

It could have been a mere few seconds or an eternity when Hanzo finally gave his answer.

 

“... As you once said to me Jesse,” the archer whispered, “I would marry you twice, if I am permitted.”

 

“So... yes?” the cowboy inquired nervously.

 

“Yes.” Hanzo replied.

 

As they shared one more kiss before they stood up together Hanzo figured that whether life chose to give them but one more day to be together or if the Fates were to permit them to grow gray and old side by side, he would cherish every single moment he was given alongside Jesse.

 

The flower petals kept on falling as they danced along the soft spring breeze, Hanzo's ribbon moved along with them well. A streak of bright gold among the curtain of pink flowers.

 

On that moment, nothing else but them mattered. Jesse's eyes reflected the light of the sun, the warm brown becoming shinier as Hanzo gave Jesse the brightest smile he was able to muster; for his happiness had doubled by a tenfold mere moments before.

 

They were both happy, and Hanzo hoped they would be able to share such bliss for many years to come.

 

“I love you.” Hanzo whispered as he reached over to hold Jesse's face between his hands.

 

“Love you too.” the cowboy replied as he gave his archer a short peck on the lips.

 

Both of their hearts were beating in sync as they held hands and their foreheads touched. Neither of them wanted the moment to be over.

 

The flowers continued to fall around them and the thread of fate glowed brightly among the petals.

 

_**The End.** _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have reached the end!  
> Thank you again for all your support!  
> (I have around five other fics on the works for this ship and hopefully I'll be posting them soon.)  
> Have a great day!


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